Regardless of the heat of the last few days, sweet though it was, me and Mart are off on a mini-break. Not sure where to yet. So long as it’s out of town, we don’t care. Maybe Richmond? Maybe Wimbledon for a spot of Center Court action? Who knows. The plan is to take off around four, and just see where the wind takes us.
That said, after I got sent this from Ian, I quite fancy giving parachuting a go…:
Looks like a right laugh.
Some say it was just watching the match, having taken a calculated guess that there was to be not net action whatsoever for the duration of the game:
Others say the pigeon’s presence was, in fact, entirely responsible for England’s dire loss against Algeria in Friday’s World Cup Match.
Finally I get round to pecking a post. Apologies for that. It’s been a while. Not laziness, just we’re all a bit thrown by the weather.
I realise most of you must think I’m weather obsessed but, the truth is, what else is there to be obsessed with if you’re a pigeon? It’s either the weather or the lack of seed. This year though, the weather is most definitely worthy of obsession. One day it’s boiling, the next it’s not. One day the air is like a wet blanket playing havoc with the feathers, the next it’s not. WTF? Don’t know whether I’m coming or going, particularly when it’s as windy as it was today. Almost ended up on the deck of a tourist bus. There I was, flying along minding my own business, when suddenly, whoosh – a massive gust kicks me up the arse and sends me hurtling towards the head of a balding Indian man enjoying the sights of London. Nightmare. Managed to recover my dignity just in time, luckily for him.
Mart suggested a mini-break would do us good. Get out of the windy city, till I pointed out wind wasn’t like rain and didn’t happen in isolated spots, but traveled sideways, meaning there was likely to be even more of it in the countryside where there aren’t any buildings getting in the way. Mart seemed surprised by this.
So, to some sad news. Miss Ellie, voted the world’s ugliest dog in 2009, has died aged 17 whilst staying at Pigeon Forge. Some say she had been showing signs of depression, but those reports remain unconfirmed.
To be honest, despite her charity work, living with a title like that must have been hard, justified though it was:
The stuff of nightmares.