Birdscape and avoiding work

The near death experience of a Dunnock in Fish Finger's mouth yesterday demanded urgent action. While Sam's ear piercing cry made Dave jump into superhero action and save the Dunnock - who flew away, a bit wobbly, but prognosis looked good - after years of denial it was time to admit our viewing pleasure shouldn't put the birdies in danger and the bird feeders would have to be moved from the lovely tree a meter or two away from our view to a place free from cat ambush territory. And so we have our futuristic birdscape buffet for the birds, hopefully not a cat buffet in disguise, half price at ye olde Parkhill Garden Centre with a yard of suet balls thrown in for free. Nice.

I've got work to do today for, well, work. Hence the reason I've gone into avoidance mode and done things I haven't done for months, if not a year. Yes, at the risk of exposing my slovenliness, today I hoovered the stairs, surgically cleaned the bathroom, cleaned out the great loch dubh pond of over wintering migrating fallen leaves and cleaned Black Betty's (my wee, abused car) windscreen. I feel really smart-arsed smug about doing all that. But now I'm drinking some wine and I've reached the point in my work (for work) where I've realised I should have started hours ago. So I'm blipping my blip, so I can take an extended break. And go fill my glass again.