Well, rheally!

This, my friends, is a rhea. A flightless bird, very similar in looks to the more well-known ostrich and emu. And with a likewise similar taste for anything it can get its beak on.

Julie and myself encountered some just before New Year as we were walking around Birmingham Nature Centre. Strangely delicate, they were charming and almost calming to watch. The rest of the centre is well worth visiting too, and it comes as something of a surprise, considering it isn't all that large, and is pretty much slap-bang in the middle of a large city.

Of course, there are plenty of things for children to get involved with, including an opportunity to have a silly photo; pretending to be an animal by poking their head through a hole, the child's head then takes the place of the animal painted on the front of the display. Since we're both kids at heart, I offered Julie the chance of having a little fun by being silly. She did, and didn't even wait for the camera to take that chance...

In the end, Julie did get the photograph. Of her face. As a rhea.

Sort of... We might be kids, but we're big kids...

The curious case of the leaky colander

Time to give Julie another break, methinks...

The man above is Niko Alm. He is a Pastafarian. That is to say, instead of a Christian God, or a Muslim Allah, or... whatever, he purports to worship The Flying Spaghetti Monster. As such, he went through the Austrian courts in order to fight for the right to wear a colander on his head in photos for his driving licence and passport, as he claimed it was religious headwear, as per his faith. And he won. Here's the story. I like the bit that says he passed a medical examination to say he was fit to drive...

Meanwhile, over on Facebook, one of my friends has managed to display a stunning sense of loyalty and support to his mother. Andy, for it was he, had happened to be in the vicinity when his poor mother had an absent-minded moment as she was cooking dinner. The vegetables needed draining, so Mum tipped them into a colander. Unfortunately, said colander wasn't resting on a pan or over the kitchen sink...

 Naturally, the first thing that a dutiful son would do would be to offer assistance. No, not Andy. Straight onto Facebook it went... I dunno. What is the world coming to when a woman can't depend on the men in her life to spread juicy gossip about the slightest mishap?
...
er...
>coughs uncomfortably<

Photoshop is now a surgical instrument

Two and a half years ago, Julie had an operation, one that has changed her life in so many ways. It's a common operation these days, but the really nice thing is that the team behind the procedure like to hold an annual get-together for all their patients, past and present, and their respective partners. It's a wonderful little do, supremely English, in that it's a garden party and serving little bite-sized nibbles instead of laying on the carbohydrates and drowning them in beer.
For everyone involved, it's a chance to put on a little finery and allow it to see sunlight instead of the sickly glow of a pub or nightclub....
...sorry, I think I need to disengage my cynicism circuits...
Joking apart, I have enjoyed it on both of the occasions we have gone, and I know Julie has too. It's a chance to meet up with people who have been in a similar position. More importantly though, people can get to meet once more the surgeons who have effectively saved their lives.
Admittedly, it is something of a PR stunt, in that there are photographers from a newspaper or a magazine there each time, but that only adds to the experience. Especially in view of the fact that the photographers allow people to grab hold of any photos they may be in and use them for themselves. Saves cramming yourselves into a photo booth, doesn't it?

Julie isn't the only one with a health problem. I have suffered from severe headaches and migraines since I was a wee lad of seven. Over the years, I have been from doctor to doctor and tried the gods know how many different types of medication and/or painkiller. I have tried Herbal remedies and a Chinese herbalist, neither of which achieved anything apart from a substantially lighter wallet. Of course, there can be and are many different triggers, all of which I try to avoid.
One such trigger, however, is light. My eyes are particularly weak and so, like U2's Bono (and for the same reason), I need to wear sunglasses of varying tints pretty much all of the time, regardless of whether I am outdoors or in.
It causes a few odd looks and jeers now and then, but sod 'em; I've avoided a headache. On the other hand, it can be a bone of contention between me and Julie on occasion.

Um. Thanks, love.