Small birds
There are two small birds in the garden. We think that maybe they’re babies who fell out of the nest. We also think that they may be blackbirds, as blackbirds seem to be the sort of creatures who would let their babies fend for themselves in this sort of situation. Anyway, they kind of potter around trying to fly. They look a bit scared about how big the world is. It seems that they’re finding food alright, because they’re not skinny. They’re kind of awkward, like teenagers. I think they’ll be okay. One of them has made its way to the cat-flap and keeps tapping its beak on the plastic, which is slightly unnerving.
In other news, our car has gone off to its retirement home (some twenty-odd year old kid who’ll probably drive it to death). It has been very good to us over the years. It taught me to drive, and I’d like to think that it taught me how to be a man. Except it didn’t. Still, it’s kind of weird. Its been round and about our family for thirteen years and all are agreed that it was a good car. Well done car.
And to add to the nostalgia, below is the view from Yvonne. Anyone remember her? She was a beauty, and I set her free nearly five years ago. I will soon be receiving a newer, shinier, more reliable car that doesn’t squeak, starts first time every time and has…wait for it…cruise control. Cruise control? Who the hell needs that? But it’s nice to have it, I must admit.
At the time of getting rid of Yvonne, I wrote on my blog something along the lines of, ‘One day I will have a new car, but she won’t be Yvonne. Oh no, she won’t be Yvonne.’
How sad of me.
