Rosie at 30

Out for a run this morning. I felt oddly heavy and tired and hot - and awkward, as though I just couldn't figure out what my feet were supposed to do. So I cut proceedings a little short (4km instead of 5) and headed home thinking "never mind" ... only to find that I'd actually gone fairly respectably quickly. Very strange; as I've remarked before, I have absolutely no idea of how fast or well (or slow and badly, when it comes to it) I run.

I went outside to photograph roses (specifically the broken one, so that if it doesn't survive, I have pictures to help us find one the same to replace it) and found a dead wonga pigeon on the lawn. So. Deal with that one, down the back in the bush, return, photograph roses. Later on, in the kids' playroom, talking to missy-moo, she suddenly says "what's that?" And points at the window. I look, and spy this new feature on the window, with this big hunk of glass resting on my lad's "Big City" play set.

So.

That'd explain the pigeon then.

Anyway, more 30mm birding, having adjusted the camera's autofocus for my Sigma lens (it can keep AF adjustment settings for up to 20 lenses if it can get their ID) - For Great Victory.

Would probably reward a look in large.