Who killed Cock Robin?

(Well, golden-crowned warbler). Was it the marmosets (most unwelcome predators, and we have a family of at least six)? A hawk? Or one of the neighbour’s cats? The caretaker says they’ve found several other dead birds and fledglings recently. At this rate, there’ll be none left. In deference to delicate sensibilities, and in fond memory of the little bird in question, I’m blipping a rather blurry shot of him taking his bath last weekend. The sad little corpse I found this morning is the extra photo.
 
Today didn’t go at all as planned, but apart from the sad start, was much better than expected. We pitched up to the club in good time for a 9 a.m. shotgun start, only to find the Doctors’ Cup is next weekend. That suited me just fine – after another almost sleepless night, I couldn’t have felt less like playing 18 holes. I dropped out after six and did some work on the computer while HH carried on with friends who were just starting, and got round 16. Not bad for someone who’s walking as badly as he is just now.
 
Over lunch, we enjoyed re-meeting someone who was a member in the 70s and has just rejoined  (a great improvement on people leaving). Then my curiosity got the better of me and I sashayed up to some foreigners we’d seen on the course and asked where they were from. It turned out they were all (I think) Scots, up from Rio. When he turned round, I realised I had met one of them before at community events – the first time was when, in kilt and all the gear, he gave a wonderful rendering of Shakespeare at a talk on the Bard.  Then it transpired that it was his wife who drove the wife of one of the other lads round to collect the plants last Thursday. Small world! Now I hope they’ll come to Teresópolis often, maybe to stay with us – we don’t have a pool for the boys, but there’s an excellent one at the club, and if they like dogs and room to run around…..