Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Day 149: They Call Me The Hunter

Today's soundtrack: Wings - Wingspan

Well 'they' call him Pedro, actually, and this morning he completely surpassed himself in the hunting stakes. I was sat in the "study" happily blogging away, when there was a kerfuffle in the kitchen. On investigation, there was Pedro, astride the biggest pigeon in the world, in a cloud of feathers and flapping!

Oh my.

What to do? well, obviously, separate cat from bird, isolate cat, dispose of bird as appropriate. But how? I soon realised that running around after the cat/bird hybrid shouting at it was not going to work, so steadily managed to shut doors, reducing the many bolt holes as much as possible, and eventually got the two creatures isolated in the downstairs loo. Next task was to separate cat from bird. Not easy, when cat is clinging onto bird by at least two sets of claws, plus mouth. Luckily, Pedro decided to try and approach the bird dismemberment task from another angle, and I managed to get hold of him and chuck him into the hallway, shutting the door behind me.

Which left the bird. Miraculously, it still seemed to be alive, if a touch catatonic. Catatonia was good though, if I was to have any hope of getting hold of the thing. Donning gardening gloves, I managed to pick the poor thing up with his wings pinned, and get him outside. Happily once it sensed the outside air and I loosened my grip, it took off, scarred and missing some feathers, but relatively unbroken.

The house of course now looked like there'd been a pillow fight - and the pillow had lost. Released Pedro from the hall, and he wandered out, purring and grinning like he was cock of the garden - which essentially he was (although he's currently drawing the line at badgers). "How clever am I?" His posture suggested. "And where's my bird gone?"

Gone, to live another day, as I hoovered (Dysoned, actually) the house.

Which made the excitement of my fortnightly visit to the Jobcentre pale in comparison, really. I managed to get them to sign off on my insurance claim, which Mrs W will be posting tomorrow on my behalf. Had to pick her up from work today - her car's been fixed, at the cost of a new radiator which was leaking onto a fan, which was then leading to the burning smell as the escaping fluid hit the hot bits of the engine. This might also explain why her radiator needed topping up with fluid more often than the average car? Hopefully that's that sorted then.

So Wings. The band The Beatles could have been.

Sadly Wings will probably be remembered for their 'slighter' material - Mull of Kintyre, Silly Love Songs, C Moon etc - and not for the rest of their material, which on occasion was very high quality.. I was never completely sold on Band On The Run, their 'classic', but when Wings were good, they were very very good.

Wings were actually very controversial at first - two of their early singles being banned by the BBC for political (Give Ireland Back to The Irish) or naughty (Hi Hi Hi) reasons. Unfortunately they turned up the saccharine and without the acerbic bite of a Lennon adding some quality control, they became a bit second division. While selling billions of records, of course.

But seek out good Wings - Jet, Live and Let Die, and especially My Love - as good a love song as he ever wrote in the company of Mr Lennon.

Dodgy mullet though, Macca.

No comments: