Beaky Babies

 As you can tell, this is not a geologically fascinating chalk bed (non-geological fascination may vary and is not guaranteed) as alluded to in my last post, but an alert blackbird of the "you little turd" variety.
 Yes, the vile little bastard has spawned yet another brood of unspeakable evil as the following photos will illustrate.  The only good news is that they seem to be running Beaky ragged!

The little git has resorted to eating pink food like some common or garden tit!

I have to admit, he's getting quite good at it.  Much better than in previous years - not even a flash of cloaca.

Starships and Cygnets

 I walk past Waterstones (a bookshop) on my way into work, and they usually have some sort of window display for a featured book.  This month I was pleasantly surprised to see the Wayfarer from Becky Chambers' absolutely splendid The Long Way To A Small, Angry Planet (as read here, here but not here) taking centre stage.
  While not quite as I imagined it, the Wayfarer is at least recognisable with its tunnelling bore (the drill-like silver pointy thing hanging from the bottom), and the "fishbowl" (the clear dome that houses the garden and kitchen).
  As you can see, Becky Chambers is coming to Waterstones in Norwich on the 26th July as part of a publicity tour for her new book Record Of A Spaceborn Few which is published next month.  I can hardly wait!!!!

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Triffic Sunset

 Today I've been lumbered with both nieces, The Little Witch (who is currently laying on my bed watching Ladybug and Cat Noir on Netflix to keep her out of my hair) and Von Smallhausen*, so I haven't had much time to do anything except post these photos from Tuesday night's sunset from Overstrand Beach.

This was the view at the top of the cliff from behind Château DeVice

By the time I'd got down the rickety steps to the promenade, the sun had set

"I'll drive you round the bend"

 I was driving home from work yesterday, wondering whether I could be bothered to wash Car after I'd had tea, when the thought of Eros' bird shit-covered car popped into my head.  Then I wondered what kind of car Eros drives.  Which led me to wonder what cars the rest of you drive.  If you drive, that is?
  
 Aside from her cavalcade of Mistress Mobiles, we know The Very Mistress gets around upon some sort of velocipede:



  And while Ms Scarlet is partial to a flying bath mat (of the octopus sucker variety), Mago ferries a van load of children around the Franconian towns and countryside, Norma gets chauffeured around in Ruth Buzzi's Lincoln Continental, and LẌ enjoys a spin in the Space Shuttle now and again, what method of terrestrial transportation do they avail themselves of when not flying to George Clooney's Lake Como retreat/working/avoiding flying saucers/visiting Princess?

 And what about the rest of you?  What cars do you drive (or get driven around in)?  And if you don't drive, what is your preferred method of transport?

Tears of a Clone

  From the extensive gardens of Château DeVice this very afternoon... 

Uh, oh.  A stand off.  But which one's the real Beaky?

"Ooh!  Gladis, look!  I think there's going to be a fight!"

Gay of the Triffids

 It's been somewhat damp here in Overstrand lately, and as I hadn't been up to the allotment for a week or so, I thought I'd better pay it a visit in case the moistness had encouraged weeds to proliferate.
 In hindsight, I should have checked my crystal ball first...

Where once was a path to the allotment, now existed a swathe of giant greenery

Warped Delta

  Inspired by this - the blade looking like it's made of sky - and because I haven't done anything a bit arty for a couple of months - since the Narwhal in a Spacesuit, really - I have eased my way back into the world of creativity by combining my extremely amateur photography, the North Norfolk coast, and Star Trek.

This is the Star Trek bit.
Specifically, black and silver cardboard cut out to look like the 2390s Starfleet insignia.

Here are the bits of cardboard overlaid onto various beach and sky photos displayed on my pooter monitor 

You Common Vetch!*

  Tiny they may be, these wildflowers that grow in the verges between Château DeVice and its allotment are quite striking close up, if not as showy as those "Triffids in drag" (thank you Jon, Official Plant Spotter of Castle DeVice and its Extensive Witchdom).

Common vetch (Vicia sativa)

Bird's foot trefoil (Lotus corniculatus)

Riotous Rhododendrons!

  There are no cowpats in this one, just Rhododendrons:

Bank Holiday Cowpats

  It's another Bank Holiday weekend here in Blighty and, in what is getting to be par for the course, the sun is actually out and the breeze is balmy (and not freezing).  I should think The Queen forgot to turn the weather back on after last weekend's Royal Wedding...
  So, taking advantage of HRH's forgetfulness, my youngest sister, Inexcuseable, whisked her son (Count Podgekinson) and I off to Sheringham Park to see the rhododendrons.  She wanted to go with her husband, but he was too busy staying in bed or de-nymphing the dishwasher, or somesuch...
  As usual, I ended up taking absolutely loads of photos (79) and only managed to whittle them down to 67, so I've split them up into three posts: this one, which features shots of the park; the next one, which is purely rhododendrons; and another tree-focused post which may or may not see the light of day.
  Anyway, on with the show:

After stowing Inexcuseable's magic carpet behind a tree and unloading all the baby-related paraphernalia, we set off

Inexcuseable was concerned that we'd be too late to see all the rhododendron blossoms, but she needn't have worried

Of Boiled Eggs and Slinkies

 This is just a quick one before I get back to constructing the constellations of bloggers which, I hope, will go a little way to make up for the lack of a weekend post (that can be blamed on that wonderful Royal Wedding and the build up to RHS Chelsea!).

 While at work today, I noticed a faint smell (minor stench, really) of over-boiled eggs.  It was a little stronger as I entered the kitchen area to get a cup of coffee.  As I walked in, I noticed a slip hazard*: a small puddle of spilt** coffee on the lino, and reminded myself to get a paper towel to mop it up with once I'd got my coffee.

A standard IDV eye-roll

as modelled by the lovely George Clooney

 Luckily there was no one dithering around in the kitchen, so I got my coffee and paper towel without having to roll my eyes at obliviousness and thoughtlessness.  Around the corner, I bobbed down (not this one) and wiped up the coffee puddle.  Whoever had allowed it to slop over the edge of their cup at least had the decency to do it right by the bin, so I was able to pop the now damp and brown paper towel in the bin without having to go out of my way.

 Then it hit me.  As I was reaching for the bin with my left hand, I wasn't paying attention to what my right hand was doing with my cup (filled to the brim, naturally), and the stench of eggs brought to mind Chronosfear and his time-altering abilities. 

 Oh, no!  What if the spilt coffee was mine?!?  What if I'd got caught in one of Chronosfear's time-twists, and was mopping up my own spillage before I'd even spilled*** it?  

 I dared not look back at what my right hand was doing, or had done, for fear of seeing a spillage, because the Host's OCD would insist that I instantly mop it up.  I would have wrung my hands at the possible paradox had I not been potentially pouring hot coffee all over the floor.  Somehow, with minimal wailing and gnashing of teeth, I managed to gather my wits - and the Host's -  stand up, coffee cup in hand looking pretty full actually, and walk out without looking back.

Ahem!

 What?

 Oh, yes.  Slinkies.

* Workplace Health and Safety in mind, or further evidence for my continued contempt of bloody useless, thoughtless, uncaring people?

** See ***
*** Spelled "spilt" as that's how I say it, but then I go and spell "spilled" because that's how I say it, too.  Sigh...

Maps To Stars Homes...

... but probably not the stars you're thinking of...

  After I discovered that the night sky photos I took a month ago are mostly of the same old constellations I've already put up here on the blog, I thought about doing something a bit different.  While labelling some of those stars in constellations such as those seen in Constellations from a Nightshade Tarot, Is There Somebody at the Door?, No Moon At All, and Waiting For A Star To Fall, I recognised some of the nomenclature from Star Trek (and other shows*), and decided to label some of my photos with stars only seen or mentioned in that august show.

  Much research was conducted using Memory Alpha, Wikipedia, and my trusty Universe book - so much so that I became a little overwhelmed and had to have a sit down with a massive gin and a huge slice of chocolate cake!  Once I'd got over it however, I began trying things out... 

  First up - Fonts:

  I liked Microgramma D Medium Extended that I'd used for the previous constellation pictures, so I decided to stick with it for labelling these new ones.  For the star's Latinised Bayer designation, e.g. Alpha Lyrae, I chose 16 pt in a medium-light grey.  For its traditional name (approved by the International Astronomical Union), e.g. Vega, I increased the font size to 20 pt and the brightness of the grey.  And for the citation (i.e. which Star Trek episode or film it appeared in, or was mentioned in), I went with a darker grey in 12 pt.
  Then, to add something a little different to the previous constellation pictures, I circled the star with a red 26 pt "O" in Century Gothic - one of the few fonts in my limited selection with a perfectly circular O - and used it to denote the star, planet or moon that featured in the show.