What if...

Whilst looking for a photo of a Robin I came across this on the Beeb. Didn't know that about postmen and Christmas cards...

Yesterday I was watching a Robin bobbing around under the bird table when a Blackbird came along and chased him away. Then I wondered how the poor Robin would have felt if an Eagle had come along. It's incredible really how there's such variation in size across the same genre of animal.

Imagine if that were true for humans; if one day you could encounter a person who was to you as an Eagle is to a Robin. I suppose that happens on a metaphorical level from time-to-time, like when you meet someone of towering intellect who is also about a hundred times better-looking than you, and ten times as funny.

Still, at least there's some room for denial here. If, however, you were genuinely to encounter someone forty times bigger than you, there would be no deluding your way out of it.

P.S. Sorry for the lack of posts recently. I was on holiday and then injured (shoulder all messed up); computers have been (and remain) something of a challenge--most especially use of the mouse, because I am absurdly right-handed, and this is the not-really-functioning side.

P.P.S. I forgot to take a photo this morning. You merely missed a bowl of doppelganger shreddies.

Breakfasts One-Hundred-and-Twenty-Nine to One-Hundred-and-Thirty-Four

No. 129: Yoghurt & granola and a smoothie; No. 130: Toast & raspberry jam and a yoghurt; No. 131: Sausage, Bacon & Egg (egg not pictured...); No 132: Sausage & Bacon; No 133: Muesli; No 134: Special K cluster thingys & apple juice.

Many breakfasts at once again. I've been away on the West coast with friends having altogether too much fun -- climbing mountains, sea kayaking and eating deliriously happy-making quantities of seafood.

Seeing as I was so close, I popped home to Skye for a night too. I lost breakfast number 132 en route: the fatal interaction of a slight hangover, winding roads and the sight of the ferry rolling up and down. (Yep, that's right, I must be one of the only people for whom the mere sight of a boat on choppy waters is enough to induce sickness.)

On the way back I was recommended ginger tea. It worked rather well, though I did burn my tongue very badly drinking it out of one of those stupidly hot thermos cup thingys.

Whilst home, my Papa and I built a bird house. Here it is in the work shed precariously balanced on some rolled-up lino. It even has a rain gutter with a contraption to drain the water into a drinking bowl for the birdies.

I'm back in Edinburgh now and the weather has taken a turn towards the apocalyptic. I've had to resurrect my winter PJs and fire up the hottie bottie.

Breakfast the Ninety-Second

Doppelganger shreddies and banana.

Winged creatures are conspiring to curtail my sleep at the moment. This morning I was rudely awakened by couple of crows holding forth about heavens knows what: though given the time of year I suppose they were probably making appreciative noises about the other's tail feathers.

Yesterday, and the day before, I was roused by a wasp attempting to find its way back out of my bedroom window. Oddly, it happened at almost exactly the same time both mornings. (I wonder if it was the same wasp.)

Given that I have been known to sleep through my alarm clock on a not too infrequent basis, I wonder whether perhaps the solution would be to have an alarm that makes a different noise every morning.