A dose of thrush

Head Rambles Posted on by  

There was a loud bang a short while ago.

It made both Penny and me jump.

It was a sound I am all too familiar with – the sound of a bird smacking into one of our multitudinous window panes. Normally they realise that there is something wrong, veer at the last moment and bounce off the glass, but this time it was the resounding smack of a head on collision. Damn!

For some reason it tends to be the bigger birds that have problems – blackbirds, thrushes and doves have all in the past bounced off the windows onto the terrace below. The smaller varieties must have better manoeuvrability or something.

Anyhows I went out and sure enough there was a wee body on the terrace. Fuck! A thrush had broken its neck. I like thrushes.

I approached and he raised his head and panted at me. Obviously he wasn’t dead which was even worse as it might be up to me to put him out of pain. I’m no good at that.

So I gently picked him up. He didn’t struggle or move. He just panted, obviously terrified at what had just happened. I gently checked his legs and wings. Everything seemed to be in one piece, or at least in as many pieces as the design specifies. He was just scared.

I put him back down and this time he stood and watched me. He made no effort to move and even waited while I went in to collect my camera, as Herself wanted to see him. Then without so much as a squeak, he few off into a nearby Yew tree.

A short time later, he flew back and perched on a bird table staring into the room for a couple of minutes before flying off again.

He was just saying thanks?

Click picture to embiggen
 

Back in the U.S.S.R.

Head Rambles Posted on by 2

I was down in the village earlier.

I did my drop of shopping and then, naturally, decided to have a relaxing mug of coffee.

I was just finishing up and was about to go home when Herself phoned.

“Do you have an on-line investment?” she barked.

This was one of those WTF moments as they call them.

“No” says I. “Why?”

“I just had a call from a foreign sounding woman who wants to speak to you about your on-line investments.”

It took a wee while to convince her that I hadn’t a fucking clue what she was talking about. Luckily after forty or more years she’s beginning to trust me.

The caller may have been foreign, but so was the idea that I had some hidden stash squirrelled away somewhere. I began to see the light though. Could this be the same little friend I had made a couple of weeks ago? I told Herself that I was on my way home and we’d talk then.

So it transpired that my Little Petruska had demanded to speak to me and got very stroppy with Herself when she demanded to know who was calling. Apparently the imaginary investment terms meant I was the only person who could take the call. It was a huge mistake getting stroppy with Herself [as I can testify and have the x-rays to prove it] and she threatened to report the caller to the Gardaí. This didn’t phase Natasha one little bit and she said she would phone back tomorrow when I’m in. Herself told her to fuck off.

I checked the number on the phone. Yes, it was the same Russian woman, same German number as before – 00491515055199. Not content with dealing with my fraud complaints she now wants to set me straight on my investment policies. My little Svetlana is obviously multi talented.

I’m looking forward to the phone call. Maybe she does really want to have my babies?

It will be interesting to see how far I can push her.

 

The Vaccine Wars

Head Rambles Posted on by 6

The Vaccine Wars are starting here in Ireland – the Vaccinated against the Unvaccinated.

This was inevitable, what with all the relentless hype and scaremongering we have been subjected to over the last year and a half. This naturally has led to a divide in society.

On one hand we have the Vaccinated. These are the Good Guys who have obediently followed all instructions and are now immune to anything life may throw at them. They are, to all intents and purposes immortal.

On the other hand we have the Unvaccinated who are evil, unclean and are all apparently wearing suicide vests and are likely to kill anyone they encounter.

Bosses are now worried about the future when people start to return to work.

Google and a couple of other companies have already stated that only the Vaccinated can return to work. The Unvaccinated are not welcome. Other companies think this is a great idea but are worried [quite rightly] about the legality of such a move.

Personally, I can’t see what the fuss is about. For a start, a person’s vaccination history is nobody’s business, least of all an employer’s. But I can’t understand the logic behind it all anyway. What difference does it make if a person is vaccinated or not? If you’re vaccinated then you have been assured that you are protected so it doesn’t matter a blind fuck if the person at the next desk is Unclean. Equally if you are Unvaccinated then presumably you know the risks and it doesn’t matter who you mingle with. Certainly the Vaccinated are as much a threat to you as anyone so their status is irrelevant.

If I were running a company with say ten staff, then I would have no worries. I wouldn’t bar the Unvaccinated because it is none of my damned business. If the five who have been vaccinated complained that they won’t work with the other five and threatened to walk out, I would tell them to go ahead and I would dock their pay accordingly. It is none of their fucking business whether someone has had a jab or not, and anyway, what are they afraid of? They are supposedly all but immune so there is nothing to fear?

Unless, of course the vaccine doesn’t work?

 

Identity Crisis

Head Rambles Posted on by 8

I have been doing a bit of pondering.

As far as I am aware, having a quiet ponder in the privacy of one’s home isn’t yet illegal so I make no apologies.

I have been wondering exactly who I am. Titles seem to be important in the modern world and we frequently see someone labelled as Chief Executive with Responsibility for Whatever or somesuch. Zappone being given the job of “UN Special Envoy on Freedom of Opinion and Expression” is a perfect example. So if I were to be interviewed on the television news, what would they stick up as my position in society?

Award Winning Blogger?

Yes. This is fundamentally true as I have won awards for scribbling here, but that was a very long time ago when the world was innocent. The chances of winning any awards now are less than zero. Anyway I would object as I don’t like the word “blogger”. [Even my smell choker doesn’t like the word and is suggesting “logger” or “flogger”. The latter is probably a better substitution?]

Author / Writer?

This is another that is technically true but is not something I would normally shout from the rooftops. Yes, I had a book published but frankly that’s a bit of history I’m reluctant to talk about. One time down in West Cork I was sitting on my own outside a coffee shop pondering the world at large when two women struck up a conversation [about the dog, I think]. One of them asked what I did and on the spur of the moment [I don’t know why] I said “writer”. “I knew it!” said she. “You have that look about you.” I didn’t know what to make of that.

Sad Old Fart?

This has an element of truth about it. After all, I started writing this some fifteen years ago and have never had the sense to quit. It’s a title [with some variations] that I have been accorded by several Trolls in the past so it has crossed other’s minds as well as my own.

Full Time Carer?

Yes. This is an official title agreed by the Powers That Be and I even get a payment for it, but it doesn’t define me. Granted I am “on call” at all times, but I have a lot of time to myself. I could claim “Part Time Carer” but then they probably wouldn’t pay me.

A Piece Of Detritus Washed Up On Life’s Shore?

Poetic, but depressing.

Old Age Pensioner?

Again, accurate and I get paid for that too, but it defines my age, not me.

Grandad?

Factually correct. It hardly defines me though and is more a comment on genealogy. Technically I’m a Grandad when the Grandkids are around but I’m not sure what I am the rest of the time.

Just an old bloke sitting up on the side of a mountain with too much time to ponder daft thoughts?

Yes. That’ll do.