Start of the week

Bar the Cuckoo, a slightly disappointing weekend for mid-May. Nevermind eh, always next weekend...... there are only so many weekends I can say about surely? The only tick in UK existence for me were the resident White-billed Divers up in the Moray Firth. They could have been a shoe-in, and were I more dedicated I might perhaps have gone, but a 20 hour round trip would have destroyed me. I've also grown bored of tweeting how amazing I am at birding, and so really have very little to say.

Today I was at Canary Wharf, and the major news, bar my massive dedication and another nearly 11 hour day, is that I have purchased some new sunglasses which I hope will revolutionise my birding. They differ in two critical ways from my old sunglasses. Firstly they are pretty much flat and so are extremely easy to use with bins. The old ones were the curvy ones which proved extremely problematic with bins, to the point where I gave up and just squinted. God knows how many Marsh Harriers I missed. Secondly, I know exactly where the new sunglasses are, which is something I cannot say about the old ones, and which precipated their purchase this afternoon. According to the sales assistant, I was the first customer to spend time down one end of the shop trying on sunglasses and then looking through binoculars to the other end of the shop. She took it very well to be fair, as did all the other punters. In fact not a word was spoken, nary a glance stolen. I guess this being Canary Wharf, people are far too self-absorbed to notice a nondescript yet dashingly handsome young man pissing about with optics in the corner of a shop. I am now much poorer, with a highly uncool pair of sunnies made by.....er, I don't actually remember and they are downstairs and I am upstairs. Paul somebody I think. Anyhow, they look like toy sunglasses, but during an extensive test were the ones which proved easiest to get a clear view though using my bins (with the eyecups retracted). Here's to many hours of successful and soothing skywatching.

Note I say successful skywatching. This is critical part. Unsuccessful skywatching is really dull, and I partook in something like seven hours of it on Sunday. The first three were on Hackney Marshes whilst watching my son play in a cricket match. The cricket was obviously highly absorbing (Wide. Wide. Wide. No ball. Wide.) but nonetheless I found time to gaze at a birdless sky. I continued doing this when I got home, scoring almost as many good birds. Not a single raptor in seven hours. I would descibe my performance as zeroic, a new word I have just invented. Perhaps it was due to my lack of sunnies. Wanstead CC won the match, with Muffin bowling the penultimate over when the game was in the balance. One wicket maiden later and it was all over. Bamboozled the poor kid for five deliveries, with the sixth neatly knocking off the off stump bail. Attaboy!

In other news, I've started a diet. It's called the 5-2 diet, I'm sure you've heard of it. The idea is that you eat like a pig and drink like a fish for five days out of seven, and consume practically nothing for the other two. I started last week, and the first five days were remarkably easy. A breeze, the most enjoyable diet I've ever been on. Today was more difficult....