Grumpy mood? Overdone it. Yes, indeedy. Excessive eating and drinking has left me feeling bloated. So I've put on a pair of jeans that a month a go were giving me permanent builder's-bumitis and now they fit like a glove. Result. Thank God I kept them in a drawer for spare. For the spare tyre.
Enough of self-recrimination. So dull. How was it for you? Good. Glad to hear. Bet you want to hear how the bird feeder present went. No? Well, I'm going to tell you any way.
To recap, this was the star-present for Dearest. A bird-feeder full of nuts and hung expertly. A covert operation by my Makita-drill-wielding-brother. It looks very charming. It also produced the right degree of enthusiasm on the day. (Which incidentally, cannot be relied upon, as Dearest is notably low-key in the present-receiving-whoops-department.)
Now I don't know if I'd envisaged myself as that old dear in Mary Poppins, surrounded by birds of every hue, but I can tell you there ain't be so much as a bloody sparrow hopping on to our burnished copper, squirrel-proof bird feeder.
Ever the optimist, Dearest says that maybe we need a cold snap to get things happening. It has been unseasonably warm for the past couple of days. But that is not the point! What do I need to do? Hang up avian signs in bird-speak, saying, "Good grub, this way". Open a Twitter account? Dangle bacon rind from my very charming bird-feeder. How common!
So here I sit. Not a tit in sight. Apart from the great one who sits forlornly watching out for guests who are not coming to her party.
Happy New Year to all my readers. Better mood tomorrow.
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| Driven nuts by non-attenders |
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