Our Postman Drives a Mercedes

At least, he did this morning.

It's an E-reg E-class.

And it's post-box red. Presumably he deliberately chose it to match the livery of his employers.

This Weekend I Have Mostly Been...

On Sunday I rejected the Devil and all rebellion against God.

Then I repented my sins, and submitted to Christ.

And all of that before 10:30am.

Yes, I became a godparent for the first time today, to little Mark Dylan, and I am immensely proud to have been asked. I will do my duty to the absolute best of my ability.

The standing in church bit was a little weird, as you might imagine, but the words didn't get stuck in my throat, I wasn't suddenly consumed in a column of flame, and I managed to avoid getting an attack of the giggles.

All of which leads me to one of two conclusions:

1. There is no God. Whatever I do is up to me, and I can - must! - adhere to my own moral code.
2. There is a God. And He approves totally of what I am, and what I do, according to my own moral code.

The happy fact about these two conclusions, is that I'll be continuing as I am.

Sorted.

It's English Wine Week!

Our local vineyard, www.englishwineweek.co.uk.

And if you fancy a break, Three Choirs (in Gloucestershire) is a lovely place.

Word of the day: Birodiversity

bi-ro-di-ver-si-ty [Bahy-roh-di-vur-si-tee]
- noun

The number and variety of ballpoint pens found within a specific region, such as an old mug in the kitchen. Usually includes a selection of cheap ballpoints sent by charities asking for donations, none of which will write more than a few words at a time.

How many stag beetles have you ever seen?

Wandering up the garden this evening to shoo a cat away, I spent a little while watching a solitary blackbird in a tree. He was chirping at a stag beetle as it buzzed about.

As I watched, three or four stag beetles landed in formation in our Leylandii hedge, whilst two or more flew about in their sedate, upright kind of way.

For the next few minutes, I stood their and counted the little fellas as they buzzed to and fro, hither and thither, doing whatever it is that stag beetles do in hedges.

Did I see as many as ten, over the course of the time, or was it the same few coming round and round again? There were definitely four or more.

Meanwhile, two bats were darting over head in long, straight swooping lines, amazingly fast.

A Four-Leaf Clover

Simone found this today. She has quite a talent for spotting them.

And she gave this one to me!

A Deer at the Office

When we first came to view the office premises, back in September 2006, we were excited to see deer wandering about the grounds. In fact, the rural connection was one of the reasons we were so drawn to the office in the first place.

Since that day, we have seen no deer at all. Precisely zero.

Until today, that is.

Out of the window I caught a glimpse of a big deer, right against the boundary of the grounds, nibbling on the leaves of one of the trees. Even at full zoom, it was a tiny thing in the distance (hence the grainy picture).

But it was there.

Keep away from fire

Good advice.

Or just plain common sense?

(This was on a 100% cotton T-shirt, no polyester here!).

Magpies make a kind of chittering noise

At least, they do when they're fighting in the playground near the house.

The sound is quite bland, in stark contrast to the massive range of musical twitterings, chirps and whistles that blackbirds make, as evidenced on Kate Bush's Aerial CDs.

I've become more fascinated by birdsong of late, having realised that I can recognise a tiny handful of birds by their songs. That is, I can recognise relatively few bird types from their songs; I don't go 'round seizing handfuls of our little avian friends.

Pheasants, for instance, have a distinctive sort of squawk that I often hear from the woods and fields near me. It's quite satisfying to recognise that particular sound, as I associate it with the countryside, and the area where I live. I was surprised last week to realise that the pheasant squawk is not that dis-similar to the noise that peacocks make, when the ones at Priory Court made their spring reappearance.

And I think I heard a cuckoo some time last week, calling in the field near the railway line. Is it the time of year for cuckoos? Or was it some sort of demented wood pigeon?

Poker needs more than four people

That's my conclusion based on last night's game.

With four players, a hand quickly descends to a heads up game, usually because the two blinds don't want to forego their chips even though everyone else has folded. And that's a real limper of a hand, with round after round of no-bets as the remaining two just check their way through to the River.

Last night, even with three or four players in a hand, there was too much nervous checking going on to make many of the hands desperately exciting.

And no bloody All-Ins, if you can believe it.

Amusingly-shaped vegetables

The Able & Cole delivery this morning contained two wonderfully-shaped capsicum peppers, all knobbly and far more exciting than those oh-so-regular uniform bell-shaped things you can find in every single supermarket.

The box also contained two globe artichokes. Woooooo! A new vegetable (to me, at least).

Wait, is a pepper a vegetable or a fruit?