Pigeon Poo

We’ve been very normal over the past few days. First we visited Windsor and met some friends for pizza and ice cream. It was nice, as far as the new UK weather system - which entails getting a suntan in the rain while getting your head blown off by a freak gust of wind - will allow. Then we went to Lewes, where we ate organic sandwiches and vegetables we’d never seen before in the sun/cold. Lewes is a lovely town, which reminds me of growing up. It has proper shops and nice green spaces and people who smile and speak to you in the street. It really felt like we were on holiday. We sat in our friend’s back garden with white wine and crisps, while our daughter responded to the countryside feel by playing vets.

On our return to London I found that a pigeon (I assume) has defecated on my window at the top of the house. It must have sat on the flashing with its nether regions (or wherever they do it from) over the edge and trickled it down gently. No mean feat. And a unique avian insult which I am aware of every time I look outside. I may even have to take my life in my hands and clean the window. If this is my last entry you will know what has happened.