Rubí Donkey writes her Rubí Tuesday blog.
Our Peasant is having a bad day. He spent a short time looking at his computer this morning then a long time swearing while sweeping up donkey manure before putting the shopping bags in the long-suffering Hyundai and swearing his way down the road to go to La Vila Joiosa. The mood of the joyful village was probably not entirely helped by his arrival, even though they are preparing for the start of the Moros y Cristianos fiestas tomorrow and are in a happier mood than our Peasant.
I have no idea what his problem is, apart from the fact that it seemed to be the main news of the day from London and he repeated a few times: “The bastards are really taking the piss now! This will end up being decided on the streets!”
Meanwhile, I’m just having another nice straw day. Sometimes the straw is dark and rather ‘over-cooked’ – as we straw connoisseurs would say – and at the other end of the straw poll we find white straw that is tasty and crunchy: a bit like the Ryvita biscuits the Peasant sometimes gives us when he is in a generous mood and has run out of cheaper treats.
This straw is vintage Castilla La Mancha 2019. It has a nose of dusty wooden cart wheels and an after-taste of village bakers’ chimney smoke in the west wind driving the Meseta windmills.
So let’s go and see what the others are making of this new batch of straw from the Nutrivila store in La Vila Joiosa – our friendly local supplier of gourmet donkey feed products – run by the straw maestro Tito who happily takes back any bales of straw that we reject (e.g. in May when we sent back six bales that were well below Michelin Guide standard.)
Well, it appears Morris is happily throwing straw out of the manger as usual and is happy with the new batch.
This blog post is dedicated to Geert Bakker in Holland who wrote to complain that the blog was getting too political, so he wanted to unsubscribe from it. Once it was about donkeys and now it is about fascism, he complains. Let’s get back to simple descriptions of donkeys eating straw.
We’re completely with you there, Geert. And the Peasant is nowhere to be seen. The last thing he wrote on The Guardian website was: “There’s only one thing to do now. I’m going to buy a bottle of whisky and turn off the news.”
I do wonder about the Peasant sometimes. Here we are eating straw. He is having a beer. What’s the problem with some clown in London being a Prime Minister? Manure happens. It starts with an intake of straw.