What a lovely picture of my mumsy. I packed them off to Bird on the Hand in Market Harborough for M's birthday, to have a go at flying falcons. They had a lovely time and couldn't speak highly enough of the centre, so worth remembering if you live in the area and need a gift idea.
Meanwhile, I have been observing birds of my own... again. This time I am absolutely certain they were having a quickie. Sadly, my phone camera didn't pick up the sound, but I swear the one on the right was cooing the pigeon equivalent of "awi'gh darlin', aws ya father?"
What I think I have learned from careful study of the avian kingdom is: if at first you don't succeed, walk away looking dejected and she will come to you.
A lesson I'm sure we could all benefit from.
On to other winged beasts. This beautiful butterfly paid me a visit the other day whilst I was writing.
I swear I haven't Photoshopped this next picture. I simply took it whilst it was in flight - with very weird results.
My underwater butterfly.
How charming.
Well, I am certainly feeling a lot better than I was, but still terribly sleepy. I'm not panicking about next week just yet, but I have called off the wedding, which is a shame as it was a friend that I used to share a house with in Reading many years ago and haven't seen since. Hoping to catch up with them next time I pass through town.
The lovely lady Harriet is also back in the Borough for the weekend, but I doubt we'll be up to our usual wine-sozzled selves. Indeed, I fear it may have been over indulgence that caused this little episode. The eternal pleasure/pain theorem laid down by Sod and his laws.
Maybe a warm Horlicks instead?
Feeling very sorry for myself.
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