A Run Down of The Past Few Days.

THE GOOD:
Mother has brought me an Easter Egg. And it's a posh one. Thorntons. In this country, you just don't get posher than that.
We are to share it tonight (Saturday, rather than Sunday, being our official 'Naughty' day).
All hail chocolatey goodness! Hooray!

THE BAD:
I saw a dead bird on the road on the way to work yesterday. It was a Long-Tailed-Yellow-Bellied Wagtail; a beautiful bird. But that wasn't the worst of it. The worst of it was that there was another live Long-Tailed-Yellow-Bellied Wagtail hopping around nearby: it's mate, perhaps? I felt awful and at that moment wished bad things on both the inventor of cars and the person driving that particular one (though the latter blame perhaps was unfair; sometimes it's unavoidable rather than due to not caring).
Selfishly, I was grateful that I was on my way to work, because I knew that I would be able to be distracted, which I was.

Poor, poor little thing. I hate bloody cars. And I really really hate how bloody well necessary they've become.

THE UGLY:

My hair! Why does That Time Of The Month always cause two to three days of horrible feeling and looking hair? I get the cramps and the tiredness and the hormonal roller-coaster and various other delightful uncomfortable symptoms usually associated with it: why can't I skip that one?  

Also: the floor at work. No matter what I've done this week the result has been the same. I hate it when they use rock salt. You can't get anything bloody clean.

THE BRILLIANT:
My third volunteering session went well. It was only a couple of hours long - I don't have as much time on Fridays as I do Mondays - but I worked well and the manager is very happy with me and everybody I encounter there is still being friendly and I am now an official Sense Volunteer. I had to sign my name on the log in sheet and everything. It was great.
On Monday I am to undertake the health and safety tour. Having seen two other people go through it - with ground breaking things being warned about; such as "do not poke your fingers into sockets" and "do not try and leap head-first down the stairs" - I know it will be a riveting and fulfilling experience.

I'm getting dead good with the tagging gun as well. I think it's beginning to like me.
Oh, and the resident ghost seems to like me too (more on him later).
So, yay! It's going swell.

Ooh, also: The Grandmama gave me some of her costume necklaces and they're just lovely.

THE EVEN MORE BRILLIANT:
Mother and I saw a Heron yesterday evening whilst walking Bingo (before the weekly pilgrimage to The Grandmama's to pay homage to the greatness that is the Desmond Carrington radio show). It was hunting in the recently flooded wooded area near to the playground, and we were able to get very close - and thus get a good look at it with our breath held and our faces fixed with a probably silly looking "WOW!" expression -  before it got miffed and flew - very slowly and gracefully - away to settle by the stream a few feet away. By gum, it was amazing.

AND FINALLY, THE FUNNY:
A small child made me laugh on my way home from work on Wednesday, when he turned to his mother while they walked behind me and asked in a really loud voice:

"Mommy, what is that BIG FAT LADY wearing on her feet?? They're not SHOES are they? They don't LOOK like shoes. They're NOT shoes, are they??"

Mommy answered quickly and in an urgent whisper:

"No, sweetie, they're trainers, not shoes, and we don't say 'fat'."

"Oh," the small boy replied, with surprise evident in his voice. "Alright, mommy."

And I know that I've complained about this issue very recently, but I have to admit that I laughed, because, it was just - ah. Y'know?

Out of the mouths of babes...