Pigeons

Well, what with being in the middle of a thousand things and nothing really to show, except for photos of a thousand unfinished things, I decided to go with a completely pointless and arbitrary post.

classically proportioned pigeons

I feel like I'm living in a French version of a British children's programme:  Rue de Pigeon...

pigeons sur le toit d'église
(you have to click on this - don't know why, but it just makes me giggle!)

I don't know what's worse: writing a post about pigeons, complete with photographic manifestations of my observations outré; or having been captivated enough to take interest in this sujet singulier in the first place!

moody urban pigeons

Actually, possibly the worst thing is that I'm trying to find French expressions to make this post seem a little less bizarre and a little more sophisticated.  

But, we're talking about pigeons, right?  Maybe I should just stick with the bizarre...  I mean - what kind of person jumps up to find their camera when they see a plethora of pigeons on the roofs opposite? 

Certainly not a sophisticated one!

Help ma boab!

AARGH!! (Translation - WHEEEEE!)

This is a nightmare. (Trans. - this is fabulous!) I can't keep away. I can't stop fiddling. I can't stop fussing. Maybe this will be the last template incarnation, and I can get on with whatever I'm actually supposed to be getting on with! And I'm supposed to be getting on with learning some Mahler, learning Santuzza's aria (what?!), re-learning the Monteverdi, Luzzaschi and Rossi for the MERG dance performances, getting to grips with some new Mozart arias and finishing the Teddy for my best friend.

And not necessarily in that order.

But as addictive fun goes, I give this blogging lark 10 out of 10. (FYI - I decided to go with the black background as it's environmentally friendlier than a bright screen [less energy/power is used to show a dark screen], and it has nothing to do with my faffing about with what I think looks prettier! At all. Honest.)

So, I shall sign out, make some coffee, rev up the engine (warm-up) and start annoying the neighbours. Mind you, one of them seems to have a deep and intense need to loudly play his recordings of Romantic piano music at random times of the day, so I'm sure my screaming away will cause not an eyelid to bat.

But I might just check my emails first...