For the last two days I was deep in Spare, Prince Harry’s memoirs. I vaguely remember it received significant criticism upon its publication. The book itself, penned by a ghostwriter of course, is average, but I found the insight into the royals’ lives and their (lack of) psychological development to be kind of fascinating.
On Wednesday one of our older neighbours was taken to the hospital; we watched the entire procedure through the kitchen window. We were much closer a few years ago, but it changed last year when she ordered the plastering of a hole in the soffit where, for the last several years, there had been a nest of starlings. Her roof, her rights, but it enraged me when she pretended not to hear them there. The situation was resolved, the hole was unblocked for some time, allowing the offsprings to grow up and fly away, but my prejudice remained. I don't uderstand people who dislake animals, it's a warning sign that usually does not lie.
The hooded crows that have a nest near our garden definitely have taken over the area; yesterday watched as one of them, in a beautiful black and grey coat, chased a rook, that was trying to eat some fat balls left on the grass.
Fred had his hair cut by moi. And we watched Live and Die in L.A. with William Peterson. But again, it was yesterday. Seems like nothing happened today. Went to work; finished reading the ebook, nothing new; still waiting for the news about the interview.
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