Ancient twins

Hard to believe Perran and Carenza reached the milestone of their thirtieth birthday this week. I envision them crossing some sort of line in the sand with the word Fun inscribed on one side and Responsibilities on the other.
Will the brunching and travelling (by bike bus and train - they try to avoid plane) suddenly screech to a halt?

And what does it mean for me that my youngest children are now thirty? I'm already losing height and gaining wrinkles. Will the twins start talking to me as if they are the parents and I am a recalcitrant child who does not understand the way of the world?

Amidst all this apprehension however, there was some mirth. Perran and  Carenza were out to dinner with friends. The waitress stopped to chat so Carenza announced, 'It's our birthday!'
'We're twins,' added Perran.
'What? ' exclaimed the waitress, 'Of each other?'
None of us could work out the odds of the coincidence it would take for twins from different families to share a birthday and be out to dinner together on it.

But it made us laugh.
Although the waitress is probably still somewhere slapping her forehead and muttering 'How could I have said that?'

Photo by Jamie

Bird-golf

Whenever we meet somebody who plays golf, Nigel and I agree that it's probably a pleasant and way to spend time, but we are not ourselves tempted.  

Then on Saturday we went to a good-sized nature reserve. At Amwell lakes we walked in the fresh air from one bird hide to another, past the water features. Once at the bird hide we were much more focused. We practised our swing - swinging our binoculars up to our eyes. There was a little gentle competition.

'I've just seen an egret.'

'Well I've seen a wigeon.'

There were plenty of birdies but no eagles.

Neither of us saw a bittern - perhaps the equivalent of the elusive hole in one.

When in the hide, if I spot somebody with better equipment than mine, I sidle up and make friends and they often let me have a look through their telescope. I feel however that we may have outrun the analogy here as I'm not sure golfers with swanky kit let strangers in bobble hats use it.

The other place where the analogy fails is there is no clubhouse jauntily entitled The Nineteenth Hide, and worse, no loos either. Didn't want to use the bushes for fear of traumatising a Ceti's warbler.

As a result, we ended our excursion fitter, having embibed some fresh air, but probably the lack of essential facilities meant we were not quite as relaxed at the end of our round as most golfers!