I really ought to write a serious blog post at some point. But until then, here’s something I should show The Beast:
When I left him this morning, he was catching up on his sleep, having had to get up early to remind me that he needed (a) some fussing, and (b) some food. It’s a good job he keeps track.
And, a propos of nothing, here are some barnacle geese on the golf course behind my flats. Apparently they’re just hanging round waiting for the signal to migrate to somewhere warmer.
Anyone want to suggest a caption for the photo?
No matter how bad the golfers were, they all managed to get a birdie that day.
Philbrick looked over his colleagues with that smug expression that comes only to the goose who’d arrived at the conference early enough to have caught the worm.
Ingrid’s flock were certain that her rogue contact lens must have landed on the green near the 7th hole.
You talkin’ to me? I said, you talkin’ to me?
I’m sorry, Henry. Was that a caption, or have you been having a lager lunch?
I’m impressed with the suggestions so far – I wasn’t sure how much mileage there was. But I’m sure there’s more to come…
You’re my besht mate, O’Hara. I love you. >sobs
Who said “duck”?
Oh bugger, so the migrating geese stopped/interrupted play on Bob’s luxury immense back-garden golf course. Truly shocking.
Over in Ireland, they have a simple yet significant solution !
Hole:5
So, whatever else one might say about Ireland, the crows are literate.