Thurday evening update.

What a week!
Talk about busy!
Well, no, YOU talk about busy.
Since I retired, I don't do busy. I do lethargic, with occasional frenzy.
Last Friday, braving the April weather (April showers, my arse, we have April monsoons where I live), Peter and I put up another Barn Owl box (see picture) and surveyed a new piece of fenland to recommend where more boxes could be usefully installed.
The weekend I devoted to various petty activities, of which the most virtuous was creating an invertebrate "beetle bank" from the brashings of the dead elm in my hedge which I had cropped to prevent pigeons from perching in it and pooping on my Land Rover. Poop shmoop, pigeons do bigtime caca, so the tree had to be shorn.
Then, I thought, I am an antisocial bugger: everyone except me has had a cold. It's time I joined the masses. So I started to contract a cold. It hasn't come to much except for a tendency for me to sound like Fenella Fielding when I speak. But it did give me an amazing chicken soup brought meals-on-wheels style by my local Swift Champion D. The soup was so good that I am trying to keep this cold going for at least another week.
In the meantime, back at the ranch as it were, a barrage of emails from our Editor filled with exciting problems and doubts. So, sessions to calm his anxiety and give him a sporting chance of reaching the age of 40 without incurring a myocardial infarct.
Also, in the meantime, etc, I am, finally, trying to revamp the Action for Swifts website by the cunningly-devised plan (Baldric would be proud of me) of throwing money at it, ie, paying someone who knows which way her arse is facing to redesign it and make all the changes.
And today, apart from the croaky throat and a certain leaden feeling, I continued to tweak the Devil's nose by ticking a few more items off my to-do list, that is, my
"To Do (Not-that-you-will-do-them-you-shmendrick) List".
And then, just as I was relaxing. convinced that my knees would keep going for at least another week and my prostate would not need re-coring for at least another two, Aieeeeeee!, my computer crashed with the sexiest error message I have ever seen. It said "This disk is dirty". Really. "Dirty"? Well, I did keep that picture of the buxom Helen - you know, the one who was kicked out of a New Zealand nightclub for showing a provocative cleavage, bless her - but if that constitutes "dirty", I am shocked.
That was a bad moment for me.
I may be a pervert, but I am not dirty, damn you, Microsoft.