Before I even started writing this I was distracted by a pair of wood pigeons on a television aerial over the road. The male was doing all his stuff, putting on a show trying to impress the lady (and very showy it was) and she sat there watching him. Then as he moved closer, she hopped out of reach.
He didn’t give up though and kept on with his show, but just as he was about to cuddle up, she flew off and left him sitting there looking all embarrassed . . .
I ducked out of sight so he wouldn’t see that I’d witnessed it all. He sat shrugging his shoulders (he really was – either that or sobbing) then he had a good wash.
What was funny was that once he’d spruced himself up the female came back and said she’d changed her mind now he’d attended to matters of personal hygiene and he looked down his beak at her as if to say “I’ve gone off the idea now,” and flew off.
What does that have to do with writing? Absolutely nothing. Except that’s what I should be doing instead of sitting here watching the antics of the local pigeons.
Yesterday my computer overheated and didn’t just go on a go-slow, it refused to work at all. Wouldn’t even shut down. My husband opened it up this morning and attached another fan and touch wood it’s been fine.
He’s going to open it up again later and hoover inside – couldn’t do it when it was open earlier as the baby was asleep. He said it’s full of dust. Now where has that come from I wonder?
I have a fridge magnet that belonged to my mum. It says “You can look at the dust but please don’t write in it.” Wise words. If people left the dust alone it would just settle and wouldn’t find its way into computers . . .
But I know how the poor computer felt. I feel overheated and tired. There are thunder flies crawling about my computer screen and dark clouds on the horizon.