Scraping the barrel

Remarkably we still keep getting nice sunny days (although not today) so here's a snap I took the other day of the church taken from the other side of the reservoir. It's about halfway between the left edge of the pic and the water, just below the ridge of the hill behind. In belated answer to the query in the comments box, very much a country church; I imagine all the effort put into the decoration of the building came less from the size of congregation and more from the age-old belief that spending money in the right place now will get you better seats in the afterlife...



Meanwhile, prompted by a not-entirely welcome reminder also in the comments box, I was thinking about just how far I haven't progressed in my quest for tool storage. It really is all on hold while I try and get to doing Crimbo pressies, but surely the gods can't contrive to hold me up in that respect much longer, can they?

Actually don't answer that...

But the fact is I'm seriously thinking of shelving any wild thoughts of tambours - please don't throw things - not because I don't still think it's a good idea, but because I'd quite like to get this done before the next millenium. It'd be nice to have even started before this time next year, quite frankly...

Oh, and small but significant progress vis-a-vis the Cage Of Doom - the lad has unwillingly set foot in it for a couple of minutes before exploding out of the door and into my face in a flurry of wings and scattered feathers. What with that and the firm attempts, by means of beak on flesh (my flesh, his beak), to get himself as far away as possible when I try and get him to go a bit closer to it, I'm not so sure this isn't turning out more painful to me than him.