In a desperate attempt to make the holidays last longer before the existential horror of having to return to work tomorrow (no, no, please!!), Lord H and I have spent the day at Titchfield Haven and stared blankly at enormous number of oystercatchers. Not to mention dealing with a strange person who asked to use my binoculars to look at a very exciting bird and then wouldn't let me have a look to see what the said bird was. However, he did eventually give the binoculars back, by which time the bird had gone and he was stuck into telling me the life-cycle of a dabchick (aka Little Grebe). We backed away smiling politely and nodding. Whilst phoning the police. As you do ...
We managed to see a new exciting bird once we were on our own though - a Cetti's Warbler (that'll get Nik reaching for his RSPB book for sure ...). And I also managed to glimpse another green woodpecker (so two Woodpecker points for me, hurrah!). Not only that but Lord H bought me a cuddly green woodpecker from the shop that produces genuine woodpecker laughter and hid it in his camera bag with its head peering out so I could claim I'd "spotted" another. Ho ho. Lord but we are so truly sad!
I also had a wave of depression in Hide Number Two, possibly induced by the bizarre lack of birdlife or the misery of having had all three of my writing mags delivered this weekend so one is forced to read over and over again about (a) how to write (all the advice is contradictory so leaves no hope of gaining any advantage, I fear ...); (b) what you should do to get published (hell, don't make me laugh!); and (c) how utterly wonderfully everyone else is doing and what amazing writing careers they have (honestly, I really don't care). But I bravely beat the pain back by demolishing the cheese and ham sandwiches we'd bought (as the Titchfield Haven cafe is so crap). Honestly, there's nothing food can't cure, really. And if there is, well then alcohol mops up the remainder.
Tonight, I'm going to have to tackle some of the ironing, watch loads of TV in a stalwart attempt to avoid doing any writing, and get over the trauma of finding out who's out of the competition in "Strictly Come Dancing". And, hell, was it just me or were the judges way too horribly mean to poor old Kate & Anton last night?? Bloody hell, but the poor woman is in agony and only doing her best!!! They should have been nicer for sure.
Oh, and I'd better ring Mother and attempt to sound like a sane daughter too - should be something of a challenge today.
This week's haiku:
Wind turbines weave air
into shelduck, dunlin, teal.
Wings draw down the sun.
Today's nice things:
2. Home-made sandwiches