Oh how wrong we were. None of us have seen anything, with the exception of lots of water. Hard as it is to believe, none of us have seen a Sand Martin, and there has been one single House Martin. The patch list is miles behind where it should be, it is easily the poorest spring since records began*. So, no birds, though I did take a very pleasing photo of a Greylag Goose, which you can see here. I hope to make loads of money out of it and retire, which is why I haven't put it on here to be downloaded at will. It does happen you know - I still see a photo I took of a plant in Naples over a decade ago being used regularly to sell seeds of the plant on Ebay. You can even see Mrs L in the background! I gave up trying to get people to desist long ago. In fact, to prove it's still happening, I had a quick search - took five seconds - and sure enough, my photo comes up on the fourth item down. Shameless.
Talking of Mrs L and photos, an interesting half hour a few nights ago resulted in this. Now before you say that some things should remain behind closed doors, this is perfectly safe, and frankly I think the world needs to know. This is Mrs L's latest handbag.
As you can see, it's broken. Again. All Mrs L's handbags break. The only type of handbag that wouldn't break would be made of reinforced steel, and would be so heavy as to be unportable. Why do they break? Because the non-metallic handbag that can safely hold 45,000 Tesco receipts, 36,000 used tissues, 14 broken pens, 5 lip balms, a purse, keys and a phone has yet to be designed, and nor will it ever be. Imagine if I had that little lot in my pockets?! In some ways men have it easy. There is simply not enough room in pockets to hold that amount of crap, so we throw it away. My simple suggestion of using a bigger handbag was met with all the scorn it deserved, as apparently a bigger handbag would suffer from exactly the same problem - ie bursting under the strain - but would just hold more and thus delay the inevitable "pop" that will one day come. How about throwing away receipts, I suggested? More scorn. I will check them against my bank statements (the ones in a pile three feet deep at the back of the wardrobe), she said. We sat on the sofa together, I eager to help, but not being allowed to, as carefully each scrunched-up receipt was flattened and read. In October 11 we bought 8 tins of Baked Beans and a new sponge. Fantastic! Happy memories! That one got binned. The next was from August - a scarf purchased in St Andrews - this one went into the keepers pile.
What?! Why on earth are you keeping that one dearest, I enquired. In case I want to take it back, came the 100% serious reply. You are kidding me? Do shopkeepers now rent scarves? Can you imagine going back to the shop in Fife, seven months later and just as it's getting warm again, and saying that you've changed your mind and you don't want it any more! You'd be chased down the street! Anyway we had a lot of fun, but there is now a problem. There is now not enough stuff in the handbag. Things move around now, it's all loose, and things could fall out. Any thumping noises you can hear are definitely not me banging my head against the wall repeatedly. Anyway, we must now begin the long, dark search for a new handbag. Do handbag review sites exist I asked, cautiously. The very notion! Reviews on the internet are for men exclusively it appears. Women do not write bag reviews for the consumption of other women. Women go to shops and poke at handbags, tut at handbags. So do I dare buy her a handbag for her birthday? Online? Not on your nelly! Plastic Bag anyone? Looks like we may have some Tesco ones.....
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