When you're stuck inside because it's cold wet and blowing a hoolie outside but the radio (Classic FM) is telling you that England is fine dry and sunny. I really don't mind not being part of England and have no desire to resurrect my Scottish ancestry (the C stands for Campbell so I'm hated anyway) but they could at least recognise the grand kingdom of Northumbria even if they won't pay to upgrade our roads to National status. Rant over and bloody hell, the suns just come out. Thunderbolt from the blue next I guess.
Anyway the weathers not bad enough to prevent my pair of Blue Tits finding plenty of green caterpillars. They were managing one every four to six minutes last night but the wet was playing murder with the hair style!
A fresh batch of young House Sparrows were being fed by father but looked pretty miserable and baffled at being brought into such a harsh world.
Meanwhile Mrs Chaffinch oversaw the scene with a certain imperious look little knowing she was only a few feet above a Collared Dove that has nested just three feet from my back window. If the weather improves I may even be able to get a picture but all this shooting through glass is doing my head in, not helped by the Jackdaw chick in the front tree waking me before five each morning with its demands for food.