Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Can you see what it is yet ?
So, we have a regular *friendly* challenge competition in our family.
It's a traditional thing we started a few years ago.
We try and organise two or three a year.
There are three teams of two in our family group.
There used to be four teams, but the older generation now watch and laugh.
We have a proper engraved Trophy for the Winners, a Runner-up shield and a Casualty (booby) statuette for the, er, LOSERS, basically.
The rules are simple:
The basic element is for each event to be fun rather than competitive.
Some members take it more seriously than others, so the outcome must be won more by luck than skill or judgement.
This is easier said than done as spreadsheets, savants and secret practices have been known to be deployed in the past.
The winners get to choose the competition for the next challenge.
Last time WE got to win for choosing the nearest birth weight for the new baby at 6lb. 10oz.
Yes, a spreadsheet may have been used, together with econometric forecasting algorithms, but mother nature helped us to win by conveniently organising a slightly prem. birth. So, we were spot on.
This time, each team was provided, by us, with identical metal holders filled with identical selection of natural fibres, suitable for bird nesting material.
These nesting materials were synchronously deployed in three separate gardens at 10.00am on Feb. 14th.
The winners will be the team with the least amount of nesting material left by Easter.
Already, strategic decisions have been taken on most *suitable* spot in each garden for birds to see and remove nesting materials.
Team M have sited their container near the bird bath and blue tit feeding patch.
Team J have sited theirs alongside a massive bird table with all sorts of birdie treats.
I contemplated farming our container out to a neighbour's garden who has masses of bird visitors.
I was overruled, so Team Luke have deployed bird fat feeders near our container to encourage the birds.
Watch this space..............
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Just make sure the birds don't eat so much that they can't take off again. A neighbour of mine once fed an exhausted racing pigeon to the extent it couldn't fly; it waddled into the road and was hit by a car.
On that cheery note ....
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On that cheery note ....
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