Sunday, 30th January, 2011.

1) When out walking along the River, one must be vigilant when passing beneath the railway viaduct. The pigeons there spend every waking hour poo-ing and keeping an eye out for passing peregrine falcons. The two occupations are not unconnected.

Birmingham: Saturday, 29th January, 2011.

1) There's always something going on in Birmingham pt 12,936. Today, it's a political gathering by the Communications Unions regarding 'The Cuts'. Group of chinless Tories chanting: 'We must balance the books! Say, we must balance the books!!' fortunately, just out of shot.

2) Socialists stand shoulder to shoulder proud in the knowledge that while chinless Tories may be able to balance the books (or not) they can always use their superior embroidery and needlepoint skills to make killer banners.

3) It's come to this!

What was once Tempest Records is now a cowin' betting emporium. Nowt wrong with that, you might say. But it does beg the question: when they can do either/both on-line, how come folk will trek into town to lay a bet but can't be bothered to to visit a shop to buy music?

Eversham Cats Protection, Sunday 23rd January, 2011.

1) 'Elsie' is still here and in need of lots of love. Luckily, she has an army of volunteers (excuse the pun) queuing up for a turn.

2) Aiyeeeee! Run fer yer lives!! It's the dreaded cyclops-cat and it's got you in its evil eye!

3) I don't care how nice you say my breakfast is. I'm staying in here.

4) Like most of us, Pandora is not getting any younger. She doesn't do herself any favours, does she? But she's much friendlier than she looks. No, really.

Gheluvelt Park, Sunday 16th January, 2011.

It's a 'hot ticket' in some quarters and the queue has already started to form for the traditional performance of Swan Lake due to take place on the park's bandstand later this month (possibly).

Sunday 2nd January, 2011.

1) Banished from the kitchen. It's an outrage! Just because I was taking a natural interest in the cooking of the Sunday Roast. Getting in the way, they said, under their feet. As if. It's beef, if I'm not mistaken. I can smell it. Taste it. Oh the exquisite torture.
2) I was right. It was beef. Lovely it was an' all. Served in a puddle of gravy made with the juices of the meat. And yes, you're right, I could have managed a little bit more. Mmmmmm, I can still taste it now. Still, mustn't grumble. It'll soon be supper time.