And isn't it Ironic

MEGA: Rufous-tailed Robin, Norfolk. Previous British Records? One. A biggie then. Right, JL in the car tomorrow, tick and run? Sadly not. In a cruel twist of fate, having just worked a five day week for the first time in almost three years, I can't go.

Alanis Morisette sang about it, 

Mr. Stay-at-home Dad wasn't afraid to shirk
He put on his suit, took the tube, went to work
He slaved the whole damn week, then couldn't get out
And as the mega arrived, he thought
Well isn't this shite

Six days on Shetland, no biggies. Four days in Norfolk, no biggies birds. And finally, a breath of easterly wind, and the coast is instantly carpeted in great birds. None that I hadn't seen already, but I would definitely have been up for a Bluetail or an Isabelline Shrike. And I can't go, can you believe it? Ho hum, it's not like I haven't been anywhere recently is it? I had my shot, it's just that the weather has stymied me. Fortune vomits on my eiderdown once more, as someone once said.

Still, I am going to be out on the Wanstead Flats at dawn tomorrow, and I am greatly excited by the prospect. I have not birded Wanstead for approximately three weeks, and I have missed it. Nick is filthily on Scilly, and Tim is in Yorkshire. Mine, all mine. I wonder what I will find? A dog, probably.

What price one of these though?