Tuesday, 4 March 2014


My life is like a Country & Western song.  Only perhaps more woeful.  But let's not beat on about my woes.....actually I'm about to.  But not about my PROPER woes, I'm not one for all that in the public domain, just ornithological woes.  Indeed my ornithological idiocy, of which a blog is named (and is on my blog list on the left so read it you bastards) knows no bounds.  I am rubbish.

Idiocy 1:  Betwixt Yuletide and Hogmanay there is a strange period where people get fed up with ham, pickled onions and bastard pork pie.  As I was fed up with red cabbage (David Moyes? Ha, that was a good joke) I decided to go to Budby Common to look at some Parrot Crossbills.  Or not as it happens.  I tredged (?) along the various paths that had more liquid mud than anywhere I've ever seen apart from the top of beacon lane back in '85.  I was wearing:

shirt underneath
brand new Boss jeans,
brand spanking new Forest Hills.
Blue on white.
First time I'd ever worn them.
In pure liquid mud.

After trying to skirt every speck of mud, it took me around an hour to walk 5 yards.  At this point I'm dirty.  You can only get dirty once.  So I traipsed through, squirming at every drop of liquid mud splashing my clobber.
Good lord.  I walked around all day with my new best mate from Driffield and saw 0 of 14 parrot crossbills.  Bird of the day: Jay.  4 of them.  I hate Jays.  They look like homosexual magpies.

Wears pink.  Nice moustache.

And my sneakers were fucking fucked man.  One wear, one wash.  In the washing machine they go.  A washing machine is a machine that's designed to wash things.  When my nice-fitting brand spanking new Forest Hills came out of said washing machine they were not that nice fitting.  Ill-fitting I now feel.  Facking weasel Tits.  Olives?

Idiocy 2:  Idiocy 1 is perhaps excusable.  I was expecting nice clear paths through pine covered forest.  But to do it a second time is just, well, that's just thick as pigshit.  I went to Spurn and called in at Welwick saltmarsh en route.  Brand new Forest Hills, blue on white, and is that the same Welwick saltmarsh that was flooded only 10 days before creating slurry filled paths all the way from the car?  You know where this one is going.... Worn: twice.  Washed: twice.

Me.  Yesterday.

Idiocy 3:  Crossbill saga number 2.  Loads of Two-barred Crossbills have been knocking about Broomhead Res for about 87 months but me being the mental twitching type I haven't bothered.  Sorted.  M62, M18, M1, look at a map, take the A summat summat, nip between two reservoirs, easy I don't need to plan this route no way!  Not enough research one feels.  I'll find it anyway.

It's about an hour and fifteen minutes drive, Two and a half hours later I'm on a moor in a lay by not knowing where in the world I was and not enough diesel to get probably ten miles!  A Red Grouse looked at me as if it knew how stupid I am, and this is coming from a bird with the brain the size of a walnut.  An elderly couple were in the next lay-by and I pulled up in front.  I took my top off and started flashing my lights but it was no use.  They told me the way to Broomhead.

 "Is there a petrol station on the way?"
"Oooooh not rarnd these parts.  Thy nearest one is back onta main rooad.  We be ganning that way if thee'd like ta follow thy.  Thee thart twat".

I followed them for ten miles.  South.  As in AWAY from home and AWAY from Broomhead Res.  I ended up about thirty miles south of where I wanted to be, and I'd used enough diesel to get me to the moon.  I set off back towards Broomhead but had to rapidly detour home on the back of a phone call.  I won't say why, it's not for the public domain.  Some of you know.

Idiocy 4:  Everyone is going for this Smithy's Gull in bonny Scotland found by Dan Brown.  How come?  When a very possible one was found just over the bridge at Elsham (scene of the Thayer's Gull a couple of years back) I went the next day and found a MASSIVE crowd of.....erm.....2 other birders.  Eh?  This bird was photographed and the only clinching feature that wasn't seen was the tail pattern.  This looked good to me although I'm not exactly great on Gulls, but THREE birders the next morning?!  Disgraceful scenes.  I sat there for most of the day with a couple of odd looking things but no sign of the possible (probable).  Two days later I decided to have another go.  I set off in fog.  Over the bridge and into Lincs and it was foggy.  I got to the Elsham and it was foggy.  I pulled up to the viewing area and it was foggy.  Really foggy.  A single Black Headed Gull walked out into visible light just to mock methinks.  As for me, I, Terry Fuckwit, went back home.....


Next time, a bit more success on the birding front.

Night Princess.


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