It's very hard to think of anything to say...
...when you've spent the whole day sat at your desk typing.
Or at least it is for me. Perhaps the most interesting thing that happened today was when I watched from the kitchen window as a House Martin tried to get at a tasty-looking insect that was underneath a bit of the chicken wire I've put over the vegetable beds to stop the cat using them as a toilet.
The clever little bird swooped and dived over the mesh, never landing, always looking for the right angle to get his feed (or hers, I'm not sexist, and I sure as hell can't tell the difference). Eventually he settled down on the railway sleeper that forms the edge of the raised bed, pecked at what may or may not have been something edible, did a metaphorical scratch of the head. He took off again, swooping back and forth some more, dipping right down to the wire before riding back up again with remarkable agility, still frustrated from his meal by the mesh. Finally he settled down on the sleeper once more, sized up the obstacle from this new direction and darted through the small gap underneath.
Hop, hop and the grub was gone, gobbled up, tasty.
Hop, hop, hop and he was out the other side, standing on the opposite railway sleeper, looking pleased with himself.
Pounce, tweet, crunch and he was being carried off by Buddug, who'd watched the whole thing from her hiding place in the chives. I don't know where she took him, but at least it wasn't to her favourite eating place, under my bed.
The vegetable patch is not a good place to be a little bird. Monsters lurk in the greenery.
Four thousand words today, makes up a little of the slack of last week. I'm still going to have to pull out the stops a bit to get back on schedule.
Or at least it is for me. Perhaps the most interesting thing that happened today was when I watched from the kitchen window as a House Martin tried to get at a tasty-looking insect that was underneath a bit of the chicken wire I've put over the vegetable beds to stop the cat using them as a toilet.
The clever little bird swooped and dived over the mesh, never landing, always looking for the right angle to get his feed (or hers, I'm not sexist, and I sure as hell can't tell the difference). Eventually he settled down on the railway sleeper that forms the edge of the raised bed, pecked at what may or may not have been something edible, did a metaphorical scratch of the head. He took off again, swooping back and forth some more, dipping right down to the wire before riding back up again with remarkable agility, still frustrated from his meal by the mesh. Finally he settled down on the sleeper once more, sized up the obstacle from this new direction and darted through the small gap underneath.
Hop, hop and the grub was gone, gobbled up, tasty.
Hop, hop, hop and he was out the other side, standing on the opposite railway sleeper, looking pleased with himself.
Pounce, tweet, crunch and he was being carried off by Buddug, who'd watched the whole thing from her hiding place in the chives. I don't know where she took him, but at least it wasn't to her favourite eating place, under my bed.
The vegetable patch is not a good place to be a little bird. Monsters lurk in the greenery.
Four thousand words today, makes up a little of the slack of last week. I'm still going to have to pull out the stops a bit to get back on schedule.
Comments