Gold

A solitary wader against the vastness of Morecambe Bay, apparently roosting when it might be expected to be feeding.  The sun had just dropped into cloud over the Irish Sea, at the very moment that Gus and I arrived.  Not my best timing. 

It wasn't my best start to a New Year either.  I spent most of yesterday afternoon in bed.  I couldn't blame it on New Year's Eve excesses, as I didn't exceed one bottle of beer.  The plan had been to go back to work today to prepare a presentation for a meeting on Monday morning, but my head was banging too loudly for that.  So I shall have to try and get it done on Sunday instead.

I've started trying to pull my Dad's tax return together today.  I would make a dreadful accountant, I can never remember how to do it, and I always seem to be missing vital information.  Though last year by dint of many days work and several trips to Southampton I did save him a significant amount in fines.  If only there was an easier way - he is no longer able to do it himself, he tends to mislay important documents, and the only reason he needs to do it at all is because of a tiny pension from time he spent working for a company in Jersey.  

On other matters, somehow I can't think of myself as a Polaroid blipper.  Has a blip become a Pollip? I think I understand why the alliance was necessary.  Small is beautiful, I have been lucky to have been here when this site was still small and intimate.  Forever changes.  It shall be interesting to see how it evolves next.