A dull day in December

I spent all day writing and organising photographs and I’m currently feeling like a lathe operator that’s spent all day producing nothing but a pile of shavings. The only difference is that the lathe operator would be able to use the shavings as pet bedding where I have no use at all for my pile of discarded verbiage.

Some days are like that.

The group, on the other hand, has had a very productive day, starting with feeding the poultry and doing the final climate measurement for the agroforestry scheme. After lunch they made bath bombs, did the paperwork for the Woodland Trust, redecorated the tree and played Indoor Balloon Ball. (Modesty prevents me telling you who won five matches on the trot, though if I tell you that Julia says I’m despicably over-competitive it might give you a clue. I beat her too.)

The downside with this is that I’m old, stiff, arthritic, uncoordinated and immobile, which tends to suggest that the level of competition wasn’t particularly high and that my afternoon isn’t going to make it onto any list of epic sporting contests.

As lunchtime approached the early promise of blue skies became, leaden and by just after lunch I couldn’t get a decent bird photo in the gloom. By 3pm it was raining and by 4pm it was as black as a taxman’s heart.

In other words, today’s photos are not very interesting, which is good in a way as it means they match the text.


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