Tuesday 6 September 2011

Pavarotti and Peanuts.

Pavarotti is my favourite tenor. Late afternoon and time to chill out down the shed, and join him or some other opera singer. Il Divo (shame on me) and sometimes Take That (even more shame) and my favourite cat, Minerva McGonagall who tends to turn up wherever I am. She doesnt like Take That. But when Pavarotti is on the eyes close to half slits and the claws begin to knead. Thats the cat - not me.

The peanuts come into the equation when I look out of the window. Outside are a peanut feeder and a fat ball feeder. There are bird feeders outside every window here.


Great Tit.



Blue Tit.


Great Tit. deciding which way to go.




Blue tit getting stuck in. Its food isnt it?



There are coal tits as well, but they are so quick. In - get peanut - fly off to savour. And smash to bits. There was a lot of panic about feeding peanuts to birds when they were feeding fledglings. And then they choked to death. This was actually recorded once. After close observation I can say it is a load of rubbish.

In our previous home we had a camera in a nest box of blue tits. We watched the parents gathering grubs and insects and then feeding their young. They would visit the bird feeders and grab a peanut and devour it. Then return to their search for beetles or whatever for their young. Its just like us (me) going to Macdonalds but not taking your small infants.


So - here is the chill out zone. Getting lighter by the day as I wield the paint brush. I manage an hour before the lungs start their protest.

Still a way to go.


My other (boring) task today followed an anti Altzheimer moment. Where I suddenly remembered something. When my car had its MOT in June there was some mention of a tyre having a crack in it. So I zoomed off to find a tyre place. When I got there there were loads of hunky men in overalls zooming about going zip zip.

And no-one took a blind bit of notice of me.

Eventually this woman who I had taken to be a bag lady off the streets and who seriously resembled Mrs Shrek ambled up and said "Can I help you?"

She swiftly grabbed one of the young men and he whipped round my tyres and announced that indeed the tyre aforementioned was illegal. Some £70+ lighter (thank you Visa) I returned home for my chill out with Pavarotti and Peanuts.

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