A Sparrow's Meanderings: a fantasy

Salad’s all right if it’s got plenty of nuts and seeds, but cake is better.

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A sparrer does not show its age. When a sparrer slows down, it gets et. Some of those humans would be better off getting et.

Still, an abandoned sugar-bowl at the café is no bad thing. (I’d hoped for a fight, but it seems nobody reads the classics round here.)

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Gaw, wot a weekend.

Close the café? I should hope so. Definitely attracts the wrong element, like people who want organic low-sugar flapjacks. And then eat them, not leaving anything behind.

Did you know some people can talk about fermented foods for three hours and seventeen minutes without once mentioning beer?

But other people can go into a shop for some comfort food and be so thoroughly distracted by the pretty birdies that they completely forget what they’re holding. (Thanks, Robin. Here’s your half.)

Meanwhile on Sunday, lots of un-eaten Cricketer Chow round the back of the Bull.

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Well keep your head down Sparrer. Or keep away from the Welsh border country.

Today I spotted our Sparrowhawk :astonished::drooling_face::fearful: … a low swoop over and down from a hedge and into the copse of trees in the corner of the garden. It was clearly carrying something in its claws.

I went to the bottom and it was there getting tucked in. It flew off leaving much of an unfortunate female blackbird behind & didn’t return for it, which surprised me.

So keep your eyes peeled.

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The sp’awks and me, we got an Understandin’.

[moves matchstick to other side of beak]

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No food to pinch except for discarded casseroles and Mankwold. They’ve all gone mad, wood in the wood. This is the time of year when you should be having an al fresco lunch and then being driven off by the wopses.

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Racecourse strawberries are often the cheap manky ones, but at least they use plenty of cream.

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That’s a bit more like it. Pointless Healthy Café closing down means they’re getting more waste food than they can “sell”. And now that they’ve got someone responsible, they even throw out cakes if they find fresh birdie footprints on the icing! Result.

Yes, of course, if X is known to be a favourite author of mine, if I don’t want to be identified I will pick an alias from the books of X. As opposed to, say, a book I’ve never read or cared about and that nobody would associate with me. Gaw, nobody teaches basic tradecraft any more. It’s easy to be paranoid when you’re small, crunchy and (though I say it meself) probably delicious.

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Lynda is meant to be a figure of fun.

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Oh, was that what it was?

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Or an anagram that is so contrived as to scream “anagram” at anyone who sees it (I bet the SWs were cursing their decision to spell her name with a “y”)

Which reminds me - just read Anthony Horowitz’s Magpie Murders. Great fun

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Puppies have no idea of a bird’s Dignity. (Nor of who that bird’s friends might be.) Hmph.

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“Collecting donations for the café”, eh? I call it rootling through bins. And that’s my job. (The pigeons don’t come near if they know what’s good for 'em.)

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How does a copper save up enough to buy an expensive house, anyway? I mean, apart from the obvious.

I’ve never met a sauerkraut or kimchee I didn’t like, but for these I’ll make an exception. Clean thrice, jar once, that’s what me old granny used to say.

And I’m not sure what the other Artisan Products must have been like that the Mankwold was the best of 'em. Log With Rusty Nails Sticking Out? Razor Blades & Barbed Wire Consommé?

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aka a “Penny Hassett Persuader”

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How long has he been a “Constabule of Ye Olde Engerlandshire”?

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S’bleedin’ obvious, innit?

Grundy’s Artisan wood and/or concrete sculptures.
Grundy’s Pigswill (the brand name of their homemade cider
and Grundy’s Wild Bore rolls, lovingly prepared from cheap pig-meat by the Grundy Old Bore.

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I hear the full KC registered name of the late lamented Home Farm hound was Pigswill Fly

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And the cider, Pigswill Fly And So Will You.

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Run rather than fly, shurely?

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