I’m heading out at the crack of sparrowshit tomorrow morning for a couple of days of hideous rural experience. Don’t send me links, photos or files until Thursday night UK time if you can help it,
because I won’t be able to click, see or open them. Which kind of defeats the point of you sending them, really.
I expect there will be moblog horror.
My daughter has a thing about birds of prey. One day soon I’m going to wake up with chicken bits carefully sprinkled on my head and a falcon sitting on my chest eyeing me intently.