Birdlife and earworms

I spoke to Mum to arrange to come up next week. Edgware was overcast. In Seaford it was glorious. The sun was bathing the grounds. Birds about their frisky business. A pair of wood pigeons are nesting in one of the tall palm trees, seagulls are kerfuffling and yarping on the roof over our bedroom. They also seem to be making a nest. This is being done near a tv satellite dish which no longer works, since the pesky gulls started bumping uglies. Magpies nesting in the hedge. This means Brian the cat is being menaced by a magpie clattering and flying at him when he wanders about in the garden. He's a bit too old to seem  bothered much or be a real threat.

Patrick and Adele came by for coffee this morning. We sat outside in the sun chatting, after Patrick kindly used a special sensor to check that where we going to drill wasn't the site of hidden wires. Cheery banter in the sunshine. Patrick talking about poker and chess. He wants me to play poker but I won't. They are lovely folks.

Then Lorraine and I wandered about the shops in Seaford, before heading back into the back garden, to do things like plant the fig tree Lorraine had been given (called Little Miss Figgy) by Catherine and Tanya. We also put earth and seed potatoes into special sacks, attached the glasshouse blinds onto the glasshouse. And failed to get the garden waste grinder,  borrowed from Stephanie across the road, going. Although we got it started, it seemed not to work properly.   

Lorraine and I sat down having completed these taks and drank small cans of Pilser Urquell. 

After dinner we watched the bizarre spectacle of The Eurovision Song Contest. Several of our friends were attending parties to watch it. 

I had seen gay people referring to the competition as 'Gay Christmas' on Twitter. It is an upside down world of irony, camp, absurd costumes and frequently terrible music. It was held in Liverpool, on behalf of Ukraine, who are otherwise engaged fighting Putin's mercenaries. The UK were second last year which sort of explains it.  This year's UK singer was the final act, singing an inane tik-tok ready earworm in a tremulous, flat voice. She achieved second from last place, only above Germany. The voting, even to this uninterested viewer, seems far from transparent, a tune by Sweden, which sounded like Winner Takes it All, by Abba emerging as a runaway winner. There was one genuinely moving bit, when the crowd were led in a rendition of You'll never walk alone directed to Ukraine. Otherwise a few hours of my life I will never get back.

And so to bed. On a sweeter note, one the roses we planted in the front garden is flowering.