All that must have taken Jenny just the first ten minutes because she even managed to get the owner to promise that, in future, he would only sell obviously established pairs as an item and not split them up, as well as put up a sign to that effect. Oh yes, she even persuaded him to let her phone the customer, a Mrs J, ahead of our visit, not only to ensure that she was in, but to ask if we could speak to her and to say that we were on our way.

Well done Jenny and well done the shop owner as well for being so amenable.

As for the bird....We delivered it to Mrs J who was only too pleased to reinstate the love-lorn couple in the small aviary her son had built for her in her out-house.

It was brilliant to watch as the little female was set free from the box. At first, she just sat on the floor in the aviary, but then the male seemed to recognize her and immediately flew down and began circling her on the floor while bobbing his head and dragging his wing-tips along he ground. The change in her was almost instant and we eventually left them snuggled together on a perch at the back of the aviary to go and have a cup of tea....Sorted!

It's not uncommon for Diamond Doves to be sold individually and most of those that are tend to be very young birds that haven't yet found themselves a partner. Nor do all Diamond Doves mate for life, but those that do are basically inseparable and pine horribly when parted!

So, why go to all that bother over a single, insignificant little bird? Well, for a start, both birds had been affected, as the male had apparently been showing symptoms of separation anxiety as well, but the main reason, at least as far as I was concerned, was that I know only too well what it's like to lose someone very special to you and for those little birds, forced to endure months of existence in a tiny cage....well, all they had was each other and then, suddenly, even that was taken away from them!

The great Peter Scott used to be an avid wildfowler in his younger days....blasting away with his shotgun, totally unaware of the devastation he was inflicting upon some of the birds he didn't kill. One day however, he shot one of a pair of wild Geese, but was unable for some reason to retrieve the dead bird. He was horrified the following day to discover that its partner had refused to leave its side....and then the next day as well....and the next! For several days it continued to just sit there....confused, distressed and alone!

The sheer enormity of the emotional distress that he had so obviously inflicted upon the surviving bird had such a profound effect on him that he never killed another living thing as long as he lived! It also acted as the catalyst that eventually led to Scott establishing the world's very first Wildfowl and Wetland Trust Centre (the one at Slimbridge) and to himself becoming a leading light in the field of wildlife conservation!

So you see, a single unhappy bird can actually make all the difference in the world!

Yes, it stinks, but I do have a solution....We still have the competition, but we do away with the actual songs! That way, we get rid of all the incidental stuff, everybody can still get to vote for their best mate and/or neighbour, the trophy can stay in the Eastern Block (where "proper" pop music is on the very brink of being discovered....no, really!) and we can continue to be treated to such inspirational "half-time" musical extravaganzas as the one in Serbia last night!

As for who I'd have voted for....Spain of course ("Cheeki Cheeki")....or possibly France!

A British soldier was killed in Afghanistan yesterday. He was on a routine foot patrol near Musa Qala in Helmand Province when he was caught in an explosion.

His family have requested that neither his identity nor any details of the actual attack be made public.

Shortly after returning home from one of my Skylark walks late this afternoon, I heard an almighty shrieking racket coming from next door's garden. I rushed outside and peered over the six foot fence just in time to see no less than six Blackbirds and a Song Thrush mobbing a cat! The noise the birds were making was almost deafening and I noticed that a few other neighbours were starting to peer out of their windows to see what all the din was about!

Two Blackbirds in particular were making the most noise, but only because the cat was just sitting there in the middle of the lawn with a young fledgling bird dangling helplessly by one wing from its mouth! The terrified young bird was still very much alive and shrieking as loudly as it could. Mum and Dad were also greatly distressed and completely helpless despite all their efforts! I also immediately recognized the Blackbirds as being DT and his mate. They've managed to rear four chicks this time around and have already lost one of them to Magpie predation, but now the youngsters have reached the very dangerous stage of being too big to remain in the nest, but are not yet quite able to fly effectively!

The cat was obviously happy to just sit there with the stricken bird dangling from its jaws and had made absolutely no effort to kill its prey. My own experience with the domestic cat's bigger cousin, the Lion, made me soon realize in those days that cats are quite content to let their prey suffer unnecessarily, taking as much as an hour to kill an antelope, for example, after bringing it down and before finally killing it....or even eating it alive as it slowly bleeds to death! Not really something you tend to see on your average family-orientated wildlife documentary!

Running after a cat made it drop this Song Thrush victim, but
not before the bird had been killed this time!

Many cat owners readily admit that their pet will often catch a bird or a rodent and play with it for ages before finally killing it, even bringing the live creature home with them sometimes! It's what cats do! However, I wasn't about to stand by and allow this particular feline to kill yet another one of DT's youngsters. In the last four years alone, DT has fathered seventeen chicks, of which fourteen by my reckoning have been taken by cats. His previous mate was also killed by a cat (this cat), but I was too late on that occasion when I tried to rescue her in pretty much the same way! In fact, this particular cat has been responsible for the demise of almost every one of DT's youngsters....plus an unknown number of Dunnock, Robin, Thrush and Wren chicks! Each and every year, a solitary much-loved and greatly cherished family moggy single-handedly decimates the entire local young bird population!

I fully realize that many cats do this sort of thing and that it's a totally natural feline instinct, but it does get me down, if only because I invest a huge amount of time, effort and resources (not to mention money) in first attracting birds of all kinds to my garden and then in encouraging them to nest there! This cat manages to destroy most of that work almost entirely by itself!

The permanent solution could be an easy one, especially if you measure the life of one cat against the lives of dozens, if not scores of birds over the years (he's also a very active bird killer throughout the rest of the year as well), but I can't bring myself to do that. As I say, what he does is entirely natural....unfortunately, he just happens to be very good at it! Consequently, I make my own garden as cat-unfriendly as possible....allowing the dog to come and go as he pleases in the garden, at least in fine weather and by installing humane, but expensive sonic devices that serve as cat deterrents. It seems to work too and I can't remember the last time that I saw any cat roaming around in my garden! However, I'm not responsible for other people's property and that's where any cat is able to ply its trade relatively unhindered!.

Anyway, because the house next door is currently empty, with the new owners due to move in any day soon, I've been keeping my eye on the place and checking it out first thing in the morning (when I've been at home) since the previous owners moved out a few weeks ago. This means that, on this occasion, I was able to rush round to where the cat was still sitting as smug as you like with the screeching bird in its mouth and launch one of my wife's best cushions (one that I'd grabbed from the settee as I ran through the living-room) straight at it before it even knew I was there! It had the desired effect too....the cat dropped the bird almost instantly and scarpered over the back fence as fast as it possibly could!

I then picked the bird up and gave it a thorough examination. There seemed to be no major physical damage....a small amount of blood on one wing and a few lost feathers, but it was ok! The main thing was to return it to its parents as soon as possible, but in a place not accessible to the cat who might easily choose to come back! The solution was to place it on the roof of my garden shed where DT and his mate would easily see it.

Unfortunately, although the bird had suffered no major physical injuries that I could see, it had suffered a severe shock and, for more than an hour, it just sat there showing no signs of movement at all, despite the attentions of its parents. I figured I'd give it a little more time to respond to the adults before they gave up on it altogether (the last thing I need at the moment is to be hand-rearing yet another baby bird) and, thankfully,it suddenly snapped out of its torpor and finally half flew, half jumped off the roof of the shed to eventually join its siblings and its dad now mooching about in the undergrowth. Hopefully, he'll be fine, but he's very lucky really and is already one of only three of the original four birds to hatch out!

As for using the prize cushion to scare the cat away....I got a clip round the ear and was sent to bed without my tea....Bl**dy typical!.

2nd May....I returned home from North Cornwall today and one of the first things I noticed was that a pair of Blackcaps have built a nest somewhere just beyond the back garden fence. I'm tempted to think it's the pair that continued to visit the bird-tables throughout the Winter rather than newly arrived migratory birds. Whatever, the male is extremely vocal and spends most of the day singing his heart out from the trees at the top of the garden! 

1st May....The Robin chicks finally fledged just thirty-one days after the eggs were laid (the day before I returned home so I missed it). They'll probably remain dependent on their parents for another couple of days, but will then gradually learn to fend for themselves. However, the parents might well sever all ties much sooner than that if they decide to start all over again with a second clutch of eggs.

27th April....My wife noticed the return to the Close of the first pair of House Martins for 2008. Meanwhile, they were beginning to show up in small groups of up to ten birds during the week in Cornwall. There are now (3rd May) five birds to be seen performing their ariel acrobatics over the Close, but no sign just yet of either pair of birds who always choose to nest under the eaves of my own house.

Trooper Ratu Babakobau (29) of the Household Cavalry, 5 Scots Brigade was killed today in Afghanistan when the vehicle he was travelling in hit a landmine during a routine patrol. The incident occurred close to the town of Nowzad in Helmand Province.

Trooper Babakobau, an armoured vehicle driver and originally from Fiji, served in the same regiment as Prince Harry, who was amongst the first to pay tribute to his comrade.

Lt Col Harry Fullerton, Commanding Officer of the Household Cavalry, described Trooper Babakobau as "an outstanding soldier who was destined for great things in the Regiment. His loss is an enormous tragedy to the Household Cavalry. We have lost a top soldier who was loved and respected by all".

Lt Col David Richmond said "he had excelled himself as a truly versatile Household Cavalryman, rising to become a star of the Mounted Regiment and proving to be one of the best Troopers in the Squadron".

Trooper Babakobau leaves behind his wife Camari and two sons, Ratu Seru, aged four and Ratu Sakeasi Sucumailadoni Selamu, aged one.

If you could look up "Rare Comic Genius and Talented Jazz Musician Combined" in the dictionary, there's a good chance you'd find a description of the hilariously laconic radio presenter and acclaimed master of the free-style jazz trumpet, Humphrey Lyttelton.

"Humph", as he was affectionately known to family, friends and fans alike, was the much-loved Jazz musician and panel-game doyen with the exquisitely deadpan delivery. He was the deliciously scornful host of BBC Radio 4's brilliantly madcap and howlingly funny "I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue (the self-styled "antidote to panel games") that was first aired way back in 1972.

There's absolutely no doubt in my mind that Humphrey Lyttelton made a massive contribution to the enormous increase in the popularity of modern-day radio and certainly provided his appreciative and adoring public with some of the most hilarious comedic moments in the entire history of broadcasting.

He received a huge amount of recognition in his later years for services to both broadcasting and Jazz, including a Sony Gold Award in 1993, a lifetime achievement accolade in the Post Office Jazz Awards of 2000 and a similar acknowledgement in the BBC Jazz Awards of 2001.

Humphrey Lyttelton died peacefully on 25th April at the ripe old age of 86 following surgery to an aortic aneurysm. I was away when the news of his death was first made public, hence my delay in typing up this dedication.

Without doubt, he was a truly gifted man in so many ways, but it was the happy marriage between his tinder-dry take on the world and his profound sense of comedy timing that gave him such a relentless and totally unmerciful ability to make even caustic, grumpy old sods like me laugh out loud over and over again! In fact, just half an hour of listening to ISIHAC could leave almost anyone feeling completely exhausted and I always felt that the show should only be aired subsequent to some kind of a government health warning!

For me, Lyttelton will always be one of the "Greats"....a fully paid up member of an esteemed band of comedic geniuses who each added something extra-special to our lives. Dawson, Cooper, Milligan, Sellers, Morecambe, Rushton, Hancock, Barker, Cook and Moore must now make way for a new addition to their ranks....a man who made us laugh until we cried for nearly forty years and who we'll miss more than we can ever guess!

The demarcation line between the old traditional concept of Winter and Spring is now so blurred that I've decided to invent a brand-new season altogether....and call it "Sprinter" ("Winting" didn't have the same ring to it somehow)!

Two sightings today, just North of Moreton-in-Marsh, certainly had me thinking twice about which actual month we're supposed to be in....

Firstly....I was walking out towards the arboretum near Bourton-under-the-Hill, when I spotted what, at first, I thought was a Robin darting back and forth from a barbed wire fence alongside a small stream at the edge of a field. However, as I drew closer, I realized it was a Spotted Flycatcher chasing flying insects! Mmm....No big deal probably, but it's at least two weeks earlier than I've ever seen one before up here in the Cotswolds!

Secondly....I saw eight Swallows in total today, although it's nearly a month since I saw my first one for 2008. However, four of them were together, doing their Swallowy showy-offy flying acrobatics in a field just over from where I'd seen the Flycatcher and right above the heads of a flock of about forty Fieldfare and Redwing who were, at that moment, foraging for any edible bits and bobs they could find on the ground!

Again, it's probably no big deal, but the sight of Swallows, Fieldfare and Redwing all in the same place and at the same time didn't seem quite right somehow! I've certainly seen all three species on the same day and in different places before, but this small incident brought home to me just how disjointed things are at the moment out there in the countryside!

Eventually, the Swallows flew off, having spent most of the time chasing various insects emerging to fly from the brackish water that still lies in the fields in so many places these days, but which simultaneously provides plenty of early-in-the-season food for the likes of Hirundines and Flycatchers!

Taken from about 75 metres and with a Deer-proof Estate fence preventing me getting any closer, I decided to sit down and eat my lunch and just enjoy watching these beautiful animals doing all the different Deer stuff they like to do while I tried to work out the herd's basic pecking order. The old Alpha Stag by the way, was lying down just out of camera shot and apparently enjoying the attentions of several Crows who took it in turns to sit on his back and hunt for insects.

I watched all this as I ate my lunch in the sunshine beneath an old Stag's-Head Oak, just across from a herd of around thirty Red Deer. I was amused at how two pairs of Crows constantly hopped across the backs of the accommodating Deer as they searched for any tasty bugs or Ticks to eat....It was another one of those special moments that I always enjoy so much and which nearly always seem to coincide with me sitting down to eat my lunch under a tree or by a river bank miles from anywhere.

The head cahone has to be the bull lying down behind the tree on the extreme right-hand side of the picture.

Eventually, the Scandinavian avian visitors also took flight as I stood up and prepared to resume my journey. They headed East....and I followed after.

Tourists

I can nearly always tell when I'm talking to a foreign tourist....their English is usually better than mine! The Dutch, the Swedes, the Norwegians and the Danes always seem genuinely pleased to meet me, the Canadians and Americans are, without exception, friendly and enthusiastic about knowing who I am and what I'm doing, Germans are always polite and respectful (it might be down to the camouflage gear I wear!), the Spanish never stop smiling, the Japanese are excruciatingly polite, painfully demure and delighted beyond belief when I talk back to them in their own language, the French are fine too, but....well, er....French, while the Australians absolutely define friendliness, but just can't seem to stop telling me how green everything is in the UK....

....but then, sadly, there are the British....

Many of them are more than ok....like the mixed bunch I ran into earlier today. They were friendly and chatty and interested in what I was doing and even promised to keep an eye open for me when it came to the thoroughly unpleasant rifle-wielding city-based poacher ba**ards I've been tracking (on foot) and photographing for the last few days, while Nobby provided "eye-in-the-sky" air support from the Boss's helicopter and didn't have to walk anywhere because he's a lazy SOB (Have I mentioned our new recruit by the way....ex Navy pilot James and his big, shiny, olive-green chopper....No? Oh well, I'll see what I can conjure up about him ere long).

Meanwhile however, not everyone of British origin (or, perhaps I should say English to be more accurate) is quite as pleasant as the group I bumped into today and I've had a week of constant verbal abuse from all kinds of English morons who think they're being clever in front of their wives or girlfriends or mates at my expense! So it wasn't entirely my fault! What is wrong with people these days? All I ever want to do is mind my own business and get on with what I'm doing....Is that too much to ask?

Sadly however, she didn't!

With four more US troops killed in Iraq this week, the total number of American military fatalities has reached a staggering 4000 since 2003! Meanwhile, the number of British Forces personnel killed remains at 175!

A conservative estimate for Iraqi civilian fatalities has been made at just under 100,000 (though a more realistic figure may well be in excess of 120,000)!

An accurate total for the number of deaths amongst Taleban-related insurgents is impossible to calculate, but generally believed to lie in the tens of thousands!

The "official" number of those seriously injured amongst all factions throughout Iraq is thought to be incalculable, but, "unofficial" claims made by the people who are actually immersed in the sheer horror of it all on a day to day basis, suggest the figure may be as high as half a million!

Meaningless statistics? Well, to put those figures into some kind of perspective, they represent the total population of a UK city the size of Bristol, Nottingham or Sheffield....That's more than 600,000 men, women and children killed or seriously injured....and then there are those less seriously injured and/or psychologically scarred for life....and the widowed....and the orphaned....and the bereaved! Now you're probably talking about the population of a city the size of Leeds or even Glasgow....It just beggars belief!

Mmm....Obviously, I couldn't agree more with the actual sentiment of the words themselves, but there is at least one small part of me that still looks forward to the day when just one of those senior, decision-making politicians (or any politician for that matter) will be able to stand tall, look the massed ranks of the world's media squarely in the eye and genuinely be able to say the words "MY sacrifice" instead of using the sacrifices of others by proxy to provide desperate justification for the completely insane political policies which caused the deaths of all those soldiers and civilians in the first place!

It's a sad, miserable war fought amongst civilians by predominantly US and UK troops who remain totally committed and professional in the extreme against a predominantly "invisible" enemy under the most arduous and demanding of conditions! It's a war that no-one wants to fight and a war that few, if any, will ever fully understand!

Uncertain political directive and a total lack of inspirational political leadership (there are no Churchills, Kennedys or Roosevelts in the world today) conspire to ensure that the very best amongst us will continue to sacrifice themselves in the name of "Freedom", that innocent civilians will continue to suffer unimaginable horrors on an almost daily basis and that the metaphorical "city" will just keep getting bigger and bigger!

What in the name of Great Atuin's toenails have I just endured? Was that really someone's idea of "The Colour of Magic"....two hours of total Turtle-tosh punctuated by no less than thirty-five minutes of adverts designed to influence people who can't help dribbling when they think!

Terminally miscast and under-developed characters populating an increasingly bewildering storyline that, at times, I struggled to make head or tail of....and I've read the book twice....along with every other Discworld novel known to Man, Werewolf, Troll, Dwarf and  the Ank Morpork City Watch!

Where was the irrepressible Pratchett humour? Where were the rib-ticklingly funny sartorial observations and witty statements of the blindingly bleedin' obvious? Where was the crude subtlety of the Master of the bludgeoning oxymoron? Where was the TV remote when I needed it most.....and what was with the relentless, non-stop bleepin' background music from beginning to end? I don't remember any bleepin' background music when I read the bleepin' book!

Two more hours of much the same tomorrow....or will it get better? I dare not tune in....but I shall....just on the off-chance that Pratchett was actually allowed some kind of direct input somewhere along the line.....apart, that is, from a couple of appearances as a bit-part stunt-wizard-cum-extra who was probably only allowed on set in the first place to make the numbers up!

Meanwhile, included above are a few of the more badly torn, creased, stained or generally faded examples that I have already managed to rescue.

Chloe circa 1989....Taken with my old Olympus OM20 SLR

There have been several things of interest to capture my attention during the past few days....

2....Fire extinguishers! Mmm....I'll certainly be sleeping easier in any hotel or guest house I might choose to stay in from now on, knowing that fire extinguishers have been banned in all public access places! The infinitely wise Health and Safety Goblins have decided that fire extinguishers are far too much of a risk to ordinary people like me to use on any small-type fire....especially those possibly caused by myself! So, rather than simply reaching for a CO2 extinguisher and dealing with the little fire started in the hotel room by the faulty hair-dryer (and while it's still easily manageable), I must get out immediately, leaving the fire to spread and then raise the alarm with a member of staff who will eventually decide whether or not to contact the emergency services. They, of course, will speed to the scene, but only in time to tackle what will probably be a raging inferno on the fifth floor of the fifteen story building! Mind you, who cares about the ten year-old twins left in their room on the fourteenth floor watching TV while their parents go down for breakfast and who don't know what all those bells and sirens mean....or the deaf guy still asleep on the eleventh floor who didn't hear the alarms at all....but then, it's his own fault I suppose, for being deaf! It might also be that my hotel is situated in the busiest part of uptown Cityville, but that wont bother anyone else living or working in the neighbourhood will it? The important thing is, I didn't end up getting injured myself....Yea, I can see that working!

3....I've just looked at the new, "official" list of most desirable role-models for the children of today. Mmm....I must say, there were one or who who seemed to stand out....Posh and Becks and, a bit further down, Paris Hilton!

Well, I shall certainly miss him....the man's a living icon! I watched David Attenborough bow-out officially in the last of his beautifully photographed  "Life in Cold Blood" series on the BBC tonight and I don't mind admitting it brought a lump to my throat!

I have watched just about every programme that this wonderfully avuncular TV presenter and natural history guru has ever made, from "Zoo Quest" in the 1950s on a TV at my Aunt's house to this evening's episode of "Life in Cold Blood" and, although I have many favourites, there are two particularly special moments that stand out for me. Both are in episodes of the "Life" series, with the first occurring in the "Life on Earth" episodes back in 1979 (I eventually saw it on video due to being er...."indisposed" at the time), wherein a completely spellbound, though fascinatingly apprehensive Mr Attenborough places himself entirely at the mercy of several very large, but inspirationally gentle Mountain Gorillas! The second came at the very end of his near impossible documentary journey when, in an episode of "Life in Cold Blood", he finally encountered the tiny Madagasgan Pygmy Chameleon, the species that he failed so miserably to find during a previous visit to the island in "Zoo Quest" all those decades ago. He was so visibly overcome with emotion for something so seemingly insignificant and his passion was so tangible that it was impossible not to be drawn into his experience....Absolute magic and pure TV gold!

From the largest of the large to the teeniest and tiniest of them all, Sir David Attenborough defines passion and enthusiasm. They threw away the mould after they made him and I can't even begin to guess at who will eventually replace him. There are many pretenders to the throne, but none can compare to the Master....at least not favourably!

As for where the BBC wildlife documentary goes from here....who knows? Hopefully Sir David will return to our screens from time to time (rumours already abound that he will). He doesn't strike me as the sort who could just sit at home planning the installation of his Stanna stair-lift and step-in bath....the man's an adventurer first, last and always and a nosey b*gger of the highest order and I don't think it will be all that long before he's gracing  our TV screens once again up to his waist in mud or dust....or Mosquitoes....or Penguins....or Earthworms....or Porpoises....or....Birds of Paradise....or

Sergeant Duane "Baz" Barwood (41) from Carterton Oxfordshire and based at RAF Brize Norton, was killed earlier today during a rocket attack in Basra, Southern Iraq.

Attached to 903 Expeditionary Air Wing, Sgt Barwood had first joined the RAF in 1985, proving from the outset, to be an enormously popular and capable airman. Senior officers spoke today of his "strong judgement and exceptional courage" in the fulfilling of his duties as the airfield motor transport officer at the base where the rocket attack took place.

He had only recently been commended for demonstrating considerable bravery under fire throughout a previous rocket attack at the same base and for his professionalism in the aftermath.

Group Captain Malcolm Brecht, described Sgt Barwood as a "true professional....an enthusiastic, loyal and dedicated member of the RAF....A caring and diligent man, he was admired and respected by all those he led....Sgt Barwood was an outstanding senior non-commissioned officer loved by his people and respected by all".

Sgt Barwood leaves behind a wife and two daughters.

It's not just Harry who's at risk, but everyone around him, including the specialist reconnaissance elements deployed to provide him with flank protection. As he readily admits, he's a veritable bullet magnet out there and that makes every soldier in his unit a bullet magnet as well!

The fact that he's serving alongside the Gurkhas (the best a man can get) and that every single one of those guys will do whatever it takes to protect him, may still not be enough to stop a "determined" individual from getting close enough to cause a bit of a problem!

Mmm....How about sending the idiot who did this out to Afghanistan to sit quietly in Harry's vehicle for the next couple of days to help him understand the gravity of what he's done...except that Harry will have to come home now of course!

 US Troops

I've just read a very abusive article in a not-so-cheap glossy magazine accusing US troops in Iraq and Afghanistan of being an undisciplined rabble with a license to kill indiscriminately and without fear of official recrimination. It maintains that the vast majority of American soldiers lack sufficient training and/or motivation to do their jobs properly and that far more harm is created than good! It goes on to cite the US military as being little more than (and I quote) "a salivating dog of war !"

Mmm....Cobblers!

I hate jingoistic, nationalism, so I'm not about to stand up and start flag-waving all over the place, but I hate that kind of unsubstantiated, so-called cutting-edge journalism even more! The American military doesn't need me to stick up for it, but I will say this....

US troops have an absolutely foul job out in Iraq especially....the real sh*t end of the shovel and while I do my bit on my websites to remember British casualties, it would almost be a full-time job writing up the details of all the American ones!

Tens of thousands of US soldiers do an outrageously difficult job in the most awful of circumstances and I take exception to some washed-up journo trying to earn themselves an easy buck and an easier reputation as a  "serious" news reporter at the expense of people who work for a living!

At the very least, US troops are our allies and without their input out there, the under-resourced and under-manned British would probably be overwhelmed!  Few Limey soldiers will have a good word to say about a Yank and vice-versa. They'll do nothing but moan about each other and complain to each other about how things ought to be done and how their way is the best way, but that's the military for you!  It's all about rivalry....Royal Marines v Parachute Regiment, US Marine Corp v Airborne, UK v US....It keeps people sharp and on heir toes!

I would have no problem serving alongside a US Marine and I'd be proud to do it. They are EXTREMELY well trained and THOROUGHLY disciplined. My father saw plenty of action serving alongside American troops in Normandy and never had a bad word to say about them. On Remembrance Sunday he always placed three poppies on little wooden crosses at the foot of the Cross (Tewkesbury's war memorial)....one for his friends who died during the push to Berlin, one for my Great Grand-Dad Price whose name is listed on the memorial and who died in one of the several last ever British cavalry charges in World War One and one for the American soldiers he knew and who died fighting a common enemy!

I'll certainly agree that not every soldier is a good soldier (whichever army you're in) and there will always be bad leadership from clueless individuals who shouldn't be in charge of boiling an egg, let alone a fighting unit on active service! In my experience however, such people tend to be the exception rather than the rule and I would be just as comfortable knowing that my flanks were protected by Marines comprised of men and women from Pocatello, Kodiak, Laredo and Seneca Falls as I would if they were from Tiverton, Coleraine, Forfar and Haverfordwest!

No doubt I'll get slated for saying all this, but it's what I happen to believe based on both my own experiences with US Forces and my Dad's....so tough doo-doos!

CEOs 

So they've decided that traffic wardens mustn't be called "traffic wardens" any more....they're to be called "Civil Enforcement Officers" instead! Well, I know what my neighbour calls them! Anyway, I'm sure it will soon catch on, what with the way it just rolls off the tongue and everything! After all, look at the way we all took to calling linesmen "Referee's Assistants", dustmen "Sanitation Engineers" and politicians "Self-Sacrificing Human Beings With Everyone's Interest at Heart but Their Own"! Mmm....Who are the people that think these ridiculous things up? I say we find out and string 'em up!

I'm no Arsenal fan, but I sincerely hope that Eduardo is eventually able to make a full recovery after the shocking challenge made on him during the game against Birmingham City!

He's is a terrific footballer and a joy to watch and I'd miss seeing him play for the Gunners week in week out. Players like him are a big part of what makes football the "Beautiful Game"!

Meanwhile, it was almost certainly delayed shock after seeing the results of the tackle on Eduardo that probably made Gallas behave so oddly at the end of the game....I've seen some very strange reactions to gunshot and explosives injuries by soldiers who witnessed their comrades killed or injured in front of them, so people shouldn't be too hard on Gallas, it wasn't something he'd necessarily have been in control of.

On the other hand, I feel that the BBC were totally wrong to show a replay of the injury on "Match of the Day", particularly in slow-motion....it may have been transmitted after the watershed, but the producers would have been fully aware that millions of youngsters were watching, particularly during half-term week. I'm also willing to bet that quite a few adults would have found the incident quite disturbing as well!

 
The little woven nesting basket I attached to the side of the large shed last Autumn. It's ideal for
Wrens and a new pair to the garden are currently taking a very active interest in it.

Most pleasing of all....it looks a though a new pair of Wrens might well be thinking about nesting in the little woven nesting basket that I attached to the side of the big shed during the Autumn. They are constantly showing an interest, but I wont risk disturbing them to take photographs while they're there until I think they've completely settled.

Be More Positive

I was told-off in no uncertain terms by elderly Mr Werther in Chipping Norton yesterday when I stopped off briefly to go to the bank there. He tapped me on the shoulder, introduced himself, shook me by the hand and then set about telling me off for being so negative about my  photographs and my writing! He said that his wife, Margaret,  has been  house-bound since an illness a few years ago and that she logs on to my websites every day because, as he put it, "she desperately misses going for walks in the country-side and my pictures bring the country-side to her and they are very important to her"!

He added that she also enjoys reading the bits and pieces that I write and that sometimes she doesn't know whether to laugh or cry! Mmm....that's exactly the effect my wife says I have on her....except for the laughing part that is!

It's nice to get some positive feedback for once....it does tend to be very much the opposite normally....and I'm delighted that Margaret and perhaps others like her, feel that they're getting something worthwhile out of all of this. It also makes it so much more worthwhile when people occasionally tell me that they've joined the RSPB, the WWT or the RNLI or made donations after visiting my sites.

From my own point of view, most of this is really just an extension of my written diary (usually far more comprehensive and acerbic than this on-line effort) and which I've kept for fifty years, but it's also a kind of therapy that I believe genuinely helps me to work through some of the more debilitating psychological symptoms that I've experienced as a result of certain episodes in my life!

Anyway, thank-you Mr. Werther for your kind comments....and I love your toffees by the way!

Corporal Damian Lawrence (25) of 2nd Battalion The Yorkshire Regiment was killed when he trod on a landmine yesterday while on foot patrol with elements from 40 Commando Royal Marines near Kajaki, Southern Afghanistan.

Commanding Officer, Lt Col Simon Downey said in a statement that "every way you considered him Cpl Lawrence was outstanding....good company, a trusted friend, warm and blessed with an infectious sense of humour. He could mix with anyone, puncture any ego and lighten any mood. As an infantry soldier and junior commander he was formidable. He was able, determined and driven. He was a man who knew exactly what he wanted and had a fine career ahead of him"

Cpl Lawrence's mother, Alison described her boy as a "very special son" whose death had left her "very proud and heartbroken". In an address to his fellow troops in Afghanistan, Mrs Lawrence went on to say "I am enormously proud as his mother to say that he died doing what he loved....I still wear my support bracelet and will not remove it until every one of you has returned home where you belong".

A veteran of Northern Ireland, Kosovo and two previous tours in Afghanistan, Cpl Lawrence leaves behind his partner Eve and Daughter Jessica.

Another bitterly cold night for Peg (my outside thermometer showed minus 3 Celsius), but today's bright sunshine and clear blue skies appear to have raised her spirits quite noticeably. She was in the garden very early this morning, so I had time to take these photographs before setting off for a quick sorte into deepest dark South Wiltshire.

Peg is quite an old Jackdaw and was around when we first moved into the house nearly fifteen years ago. She's very much a fixture really and that's why I'm so concerned about her.

Not the best photograph I've ever taken, but it does show some of the swelling to Peg's ankle joint (the joint that looks like a backward-facing knee) and which might hold a clue to the true nature of this elderly bird's extremely painful problem!

I still can't be certain what's wrong with her leg, but these photos might hold a clue....She still can't use the leg at all, is unable to place any weight on it and clearly suffers a great deal of pain. However, the above picture seems to indicate that there is no injury to the bone as such, at least as far up as the ankle and the fact that the entire leg is held at a correct angle would suggest that there's no actual break anywhere. What does look suspicious to me though is the apparent swelling in the ankle joint and this, when considering her advanced years, might possibly be indicative of severe and debilitating arthritis!

Peg will watch me intently with her beautiful almost white but (these days) slightly bloodshot eyes as I potter about in the garden and I'm absolutely convinced that she knows I only want to help her. Unfortunately however, she just wont go that extra half yard and allow me to get really close!

If this is the case, then there's still a good chance that I might be able to catch her and get her down the vet's for a steroid injection at some point (bang goes the money for my new computer again!), but just in case she continues to outwit me, I've already started adding fish oil to her special high-energy food splodge in the hopes that it might help ease her suffering a bit. It's no good using cod-liver oil....I don't care what the experts say, it's useless in combating rheumatism and/or arthritis....it has to be proper fish oil!

I'll see how it goes....