Poor baby bird

This daft beggar flew into my closed window this morning at the workshop. That was the third thump of the morning, not sure what they are all playing at. I think he may have been trying to copy the swallows who fly in the kitchen door through the one that opens into mine and out of my front door. He failed miserably. So miserably that he sat there on the bench for an hour and even let me stroke him and no I didn’t nibble his ears cos you can’t see then and I refrained from nibbling his feet too.

Been having a bowl throwing time in the workshop. I’m trying to get a couple of shop orders together in the next couple of weeks and some commissions finished and get some making done for Potfest in the Pens which is coming up fast swiftly followed by an exhibition in Kirkcudbright with my good friends Linda Woodfield and Phil McMenemy.
Off for a massage tomorrow as I have a sore back and don’t recall hurting it. Then back to do some decorating of bowls and home in time to bake a cake for Paul because he gets home tomorrow and it’s his birthday tomorrow too.
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