Triffids at the Pet Service

Combining the Pet Service with our Celebration of Psalm 8 turned out a bit fraught.

Can I remind Beaker Folk that triffids are not pets? Once again, they're a valuable oil source. But we can't have them receiving blessings in the Moot House. It made the alpacas uneasy. And now we know what alpacas do when they're uneasy. And it's not fun to clean up, Burton tells me.

But Young Keith's creative liturgy for Psalm 8 was impressive. Who would have thought of building a scale of the Moon and putting it into low orbit like that? And although the RAF did shoot it down, what a fantastic display of shooting stars we got! Or so I'm told. With the triffids feasting on alpaca droppings, last night was definitely not the time for watching meteors.

So everyone woke up this morning screaming that they couldn't see anything. I had to explain to them that there's no cause for alarm. It's autumn. The sun just hadn't risen yet.  Same talk I have to give them every year.

I'm expecting them to be out round the ornamental maple later, wondering what illness has made its leaves go red. Every year the same.