Saturday, 11 June 2011

Deep joy as someone I don't know dies.

After no work for a few weeks the working god smiled upon me and issued several weeks work, alas out of town at a place called.....wait for it.....Dewsbury.  Starting Monday.  Alas, Monday of course was to be the day when the birding god decided to pull the rug from under my eyes and plonk a White Throated Robin on the green and pleasant lands of Hartlepool.
I worked all the day and returned at stupid o'clock, the kind of stupid o'clock that prevents you from travelling to Hartlepool before nightfall.
This was to be the hour when the birding god got yarning to the death god and the death god decided to act and a person who the death god had acted upon several days previous was to be buried the following morn.  How does this affect me?  Well, the guy who I was working with, well his missus was attending said funeral to pay her respects to the fallen angel, hence he had to look after children in her absence which led to Tuesday being declared a day off for everyone!  Hoorah!  I could now go to Hartlepool.
In summary, person dies, person (deceased) about to be buried, other person (living) pays ones' respects, person (other)(also living) cares for children, me (living) travels to Hartepool (deceased), watches Robin (living) strut its' stuff in/on Doctors garden.
Oh the timeless wonder of fate.  To bring fate in a full circle, what about if the Doctor had seen the deceased earlier and saved him from becoming deceased thus rendering the day off invalid as no funeral would be occurring on this day, hence no travelling to Hartlepool?

Everytime I saw a sign for Hartlepool, I said "Hartlepool" like the bra men (click here) to myself.  Out loud.  Alone.  In the car.
On arrival, I wasn't entirely sure of the location and was pretty sure I'd see a birder pretty quickly.  I spotted a scope.  I spun it 'round and parked up. 
"Where's the Robin, pal?"
"Just go in here" said my brand new pal as he pointed to a green door.  Absolutely Icebox!

Do you know what I did?  Go on, guess.  I'll tell you. I went straight through that green door and left the cold, grey, lifeless streets of dank Hartlepool and entered a beautiful, technicolour, brave new world of blossoming flowers, green green grass, beautiful vagrant Robins, Turkish Delight and young Fawns.

The Robin was the first mainland record for Britain after records from the Isle of Man and Skokholm island.  This species is being recorded more frequently away from it's sketchy breeding grounds from Turkey to the western Himalayas.
After the first Western Palearctic records away from breeding grounds when two males were found in June and July 1971 in Sweden, there was a distinct run of records in northern Europe including three from Norway and a further seven from Sweden before 1990.

Interesting, eh?  There has also been a recent run of around five records from Holland, five from the Netherlands and five from the Hague.
On the road, I saw this sign:
What does that fucking mean?  "Gap" "Closed" "Ahead"?  If it's "closed", it's not a "gap" is it?  So, by definition, if it's not a gap, what's the point in telling us it's closed?  There's no gap!  It might as well say "No gap ahead" in which case it is a pointless sign.  Absolutely No Gap Coming Up.  No Gap.  It might as well say "Carry Straight On", well, thanks I was going to anyway.  Or it could just say "Road Continues Ahead", thanks for letting me know.
What about:
That's a great sign.  What the fuck am I talking about?
Well, thanks go out to several people who I have never met before, firstly the Doctor for letting me in his garden, the deceased for dying at a very convenient time, and the family of the deceased for organising the funeral at such short notice.  Then I wondered.  Has a funeral ever been arranged NOT at short notice? I suppose one has at some time or other.

So there you have it, death, mortality, and mega Robins, dealt with in an unbelievably blase manner.

The great Colin Key once reviewed my blog and described it as thus:

"It IS utter's like the Viz"

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.  Thanks Col.  I honestly pissed myself laughing when he said it was "utter shit".  I thought it was a great description.  And Shakey once played for Fulchester United.  Did you know that?  Colin's blog is here for comparison, although he uses his Internet super alter-ego "John Russell" as he's quite modest and doesn't like the plaudits.

On blogger dashboard it gives you your stats including number of hits in a day, traffic sources and most popular posts of the day.  Today's most popular post is Very important post but why have so many people decided to click on that?  Honestly, why?  I mean, that was from 9th June 2009.  It's strange this Internet lark, you just never know.

I sometimes end with a joke for you all. It makes you leave with a false sense that this site is actually fun and makes you laugh.

Here goes:

Muslim women have set up a new social networking site.  It's called "Book".
Not bad. 

Can I say that?