Yesterday there was only Lucky and I in the office (until Tinky arrived with baby Gus in tow). Lucky and I started the day sanding the walls of our new, soon to be moved into office but discovered we were jumping the gun and that Mark the builder would sand everything - loved that.
So we went back to the old, tiny, cramped, overheated office and caught up in exciting things like emails and talked to people (about work stuff, mainly about the East Coast Regional Finals today in Dannevirke (I always worry I've spelt Dannevirke wrong, darn Danish language)).
We needed to head to Ashburton to collect Contest flyers to pack into the Membership Mailout (gets caps because it VERY important).
I grabbed my keys and Lucky and I headed out the door (it's Methven so we park cars about 1 metre from our front door, which coincidentally is 2 metres from (Deli)cious that does $1 ice creams for 3 ice cream o'clock)). Lucky had to mention this gruesome find, which until she mentioned it I was unaware of....
Can't see it?
Yes my new Indian name is Kills With A Car.
This I think may have been bird number five that I had hit that morning and I collected one on the way home too.
Why could that tiny bird not have been an ugly, mean, attacking magpie?
I wouldn't mind being Kills Magpies With A Car.