Swooping death on the wing

We walked to the nearest electrical shop for Steve to buy some external disk burning thingy. Ours died ages ago but we’ve agreed we won’t replace our PC ’til it is absolutely, irretrievably dead. It’s managed to limp along another year and we are afloat in downloads that he’s unable to burn. It’s causing him physical pain. Of course what he needs is a ipod so he can just download them to that but his toe-dipping into modern technology is slow.

He’d rather we were all still buying records really. He’s moved all of his up high where I can’t reach them without effort after observing me reading an interesting post about melting old records into bowl shapes. I’ll say this for him, if it affects something of his he’s quite quick to see which way the wind’s blowing. Which does make me wonder why he seems unable to learn about wiping down the sides after washing up. As the wind there is blowing in the direction of a crazed machete attack after a bad day.

Anyway this visit to a retail wonderland involved us walking along a footpath that runs along a really busy flyover. Either side is industrial wasteland, including a wide stretch of railway track. Absurd as it sounds we always see a lot of wildlife as we walk along here. Last time we saw a weasel which was Z’s highlight for a long while. Today he was hoping for something else special.

We see a lot of sparrow hawks around here, usually picking off stupid pigeons. We were hopeful of a sighting today and as we reached the top of an incline were thrilled to hear the distinctive call of a raptor of some sort. We all stopped and shaded our eyes and Zeph sucked in his breath, “it’s a peregrine..” “Nooo” I say but it bloody is. Amazing. We stand watching it hover until it makes a lightning dive into the horizon. We carry on our way, all elated, Z congratulating himself on putting our binoculars on the pushchair.

The day is full of small special pleasures. I am hugely pleased with my cards. Z has covered all bases with a tissuepaper flower one constructed at school and a special werewolf one whipped up at home. He’s also bought me a novel about werewolves. Hmmm. On closer inspection it looks great, by Glen Duncan,  I thank Steve for his obvious hand in it.

I manage to get a photo of Ida’s new cardigan. Not always easy as she’d rather be the one behind the lens, pushing the button. My request to get a close up of the fancy bit on the front resulted her running hysterically all over the house with me pursuing her. I got some lovely shots of her retreating back.

Finally with the help of a bit of chocolate bribery I managed this one;

 

I know it’s still not the clearest picture ever but take my word for it, it’s beautiful. My day has been full of BT’s. My evening will be full of gold stars and glitter glue. I will whine no more.

One death topic today, we have discussed in full all the funeral possibilities in this country. It seems my Dad (grr) has shared his preference for a Viking send off, burning boat style, with Zeph. Now he’s worried how we’ll pull it off. I complicate thing further by mentioning leaving your body for medical science. He’s slightly horrified. “I don’t even like it when you give my clothes that don’t fit to Rueben…”

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2 responses to “Swooping death on the wing

  1. Wow nice cardi…who made it?

    • I know! My aunt who says she has to g’ma Ida nd Zeph as all her kids are adament they’ll not be having kids. She’s got really bad joint problems as well. She made her those gert lush batik dungerees last year..

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