Do you know what most people who arrive at this blog accidentally are actually LOOKING for, according to the search terms?

Go on.  Guess.  Take a wild swoop at it.

Gretchen Stevens?  Nope.

Moira-Brain-the-Size-of-a-Planet-(and-an-ego-to-match)-Briggs?  Nope.

Healing?  Nope.

Complementary Care?  Nope.

Try ‘Goldfinches’ …

Once long ago in a blogpost far, far away I wrote a post about what aggressive little sods goldfinches are and postulated  that their cute little faces were red so that the blood wouldn’t show.

Here – to refresh your memory – it is:  Goldfinches.

Ever since then, the goldfinch groupies have been beating a path to my door.

So, in order to keep them amused (Hi guys!) I’ll tell you all that I did the RSPB’s Big Garden Bird Watch today.  I waited until the garden was alive with feathered fiends friends, put the food out, drew back the curtains, pulled up a chair and waited patiently.  Nothing.  Every single one of them had vanished.

Now you MIGHT say it was because I startled them, but you need to know that I have nurtured the country’s most cocky, assertive birds.  If the food isn’t out on time, they’re kicking in the front door.  When I DO go out and feed them, they’re virtually perching on my head and ripping the stuff from my hands.  Trust me – they are NOT shy.  THIS is how I know they were doing it deliberately.  It’s great isn’t it?  I bankrupt myself buying enough birdfood to feed a small developing nation and – when I really want them to strut their avian stuff – what do the ungrateful little buggers do?  Right.  Pull a fade.

I did, however see four goldfinches.

They were, of course, chiefly engaged in trying to rip each other’s wings off.