Jackdaws and carbs

Hello.

Honestly? The reason I am here is that there's only so long you can really leave pus and mucus up as the last thing you wrote about. 

Though apart from that it is, of course, always lovely to see you and nice to have a chat.

I am eyebrow deep into writing this new book and so there isn't much else in my mind right now to be truthful — other than that I ate too many carbs at teatime (mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa) with the result that I now feel like the wolf who ate the seven little kids after he staggered off to the well for a drink, fell asleep, and the resourceful Mother Goat cut him open, released the kids, replaced them with seven large stones lying about nearby, and stitched him up again. I'll be more careful what I eat tomorrow, I promise.

Of other news, I thought you might enjoy seeing the jackdaw pair who like to hang out in the cherry tree outside my window.

I love these birds. They are inseparable, and can usually be found in quiet nooks exchanging conspiratorial notes about Life in our garden. They sit huddled together on the ledge of ornamental brickwork around the top of the chimney stack, heads together, observing everything round the corner of the chimney. They sit on the edge of our neighbour's roof, sipping water from the rain gutter and watching what's going on. They cuddle up close, lovingly grooming each other and eating one another's lice (as you do). 

On the odd occasions I've come face to face with them, I could almost hear them gasp. The two of them stared at me with the permanently startled and dumbfounded roundness of their pale blue eyes — then flew away.

But through the window, it is safe to observe me.

What's happening in your corner of the world?