Hair raising

Another singeing hot day, even in the hills. HH braved the heat and set off to play golf, but I stayed behind as our daughter had asked for a little (remote) help with her university project. However, having nagged her repeatedly about working within a framework, I found myself quite incapable of deciding how to frame the minor item she required help with, so it took me all morning. I kept going off on tangents and concluded that any brain I may once have had has evaporated, gone to seed, disappeared. Open University will not be for me.
 
Once I had finally sent off my suggestions, I joined HH at the almost-deserted club for a late lunch, then a quick trip to the supermarket to buy a few essential food items. Car-walked Kayla after we got home and haven’t done much else. The late afternoon light was beautiful and as I wandered round the jungle garden, I heard the funky, punky woodpecker. Normally they are quite shy, but this one stuck around for a while. The other bird is one of my favourites, a hornero – called an ovenbird because it builds oven-shaped clay nests, but it’s a member of the Furnariidae family, not a true ovenbird (Seirus aurocapilla). They mate for life, and legend has it that if the female is unfaithful, the male walls her up in the nest and leaves her to die. I reckon that if she were unfaithful, she wouldn’t stick around, so my theory is that if one of the pair dies of natural causes, the surviving bird entombs its mate out of respect.
 

Some idiot keeps setting off fireworks, terrifying half the dogs in the neighbourhood – Kayla’s beside herself. They aren’t even pretty fireworks, there’s nothing to see, they’re just horribly noisy.