Sunday, 23 April 2017


Scruffy the Blackbird, run ragged!

We all have those days.

Boss is on your case.

Kids need feeding.

House looks like a tip.

Can barely snatch a moment to do the supermarket run.

Tempers fray.

No time to breathe.

Let alone put a comb through your hair.

It's that time of year again for the birds!

Scruffy the Blackbird's run ragged. Literally.
Feathers mussed up in a mad mohican. 
Dragged-through-a-hedge-backwards style.
Nobody notices.
Nobody gives a flying feather!

Everybody's about their own business, grabbing all available food for their own families.
If Scruffy's lucky, he'll get a moment between foraging trips to have a bite himself.

By Summer, I won't even recognise Scruffy.

Maybe I should have given him a better name.

All those extra mealworms will have to be my apology, for now!

Scruffy the Blackbird rests for a second in the Lilac while Mrs S does her shift gathering baby food

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