Remembering a Baby Wood Pigeon

What is it that yobs find so funny about lunging at a passing cyclist and shouting loudly and aggressively at the same time?

When I saw the 3 youths walking towards me on the cycle path as I pedalled towards the gym early this morning, I was on the outlook for trouble, and possibly the lunging and shouting was the least innocuous thing that could have happened, but I still got a fright. Fortunately I stayed upright and made a hasty exit, shaken but unbowed.

EcoDad, encumbered by an armful of coloured hoops destined for the school, popped by the castle on his way to work this morning bearing a large slab of his own banana loaf for me because I hadn't been able to stay long enough on Saturday morning to have some then. That was so thoughtful, and I have to say it was very tasty.

What a new man he is: jams, chutneys, waffles and now banana loaf. His Lordship finds my litany of EcoDad's attributes demoralising, preferring to hearken back to the good old days when men professed to know nothing about the domestic side of things and could sit quietly reading their paper while work went on all around.

This evening daughter#3's husband and my granddaughter fly in from Oman to stay for 4 nights.
It's always quite tricky for his Lordship and me, but particularly the former, to get used to a houseful of people after the usual morgue like quietness of the castle. Of course when they all go away again we will have to re adjust , and that will be equally tricky.
Before then I have a scheduled blether with a friend before preparing supper.

I believe Andy Murray is on court later today, but as I've said previously, we Scots are used to being cut down to size, so I prefer to be a tad pessimistic about the outcome.

My blip is of a poor wee baby wood pigeon who has come a cropper after falling from the large sycamore tree in a neighbouring garden. What a shame.