It is the day before the Weird Weekend, and not quite nine o'clock. Corinna is doing her inimitable thing in the kitchen, and I am slightly blearily listening to Wagner in the office as I sip coffee in a desultory manner and prepare myself for the horrors of the day ahead. My medication is somewhat Russian Roulette-like: some days I wake up feeling full of the joys of spring; others I feel queasy and slightly mad. This is one of the latter days, and six pints in the Farmers Arms last night probably didn't help.
However, as I sit here trying to dispell the legion of tap-dancing daemons that are progressing up and down my spine (wearing gumboots), my mind goes to Mountain Chickens.
Mountain Chickens may live on mountains but they are not chickens at all; they're actually a fantastic froggie. The picture above was taken by me and the missus in the autumn of 2006 when we went to Jersey to see Durrel Wildlife.
But they have been in the news today, hence my rambling excuse of a story:
A rather disturbing bit of video
A news story about the fungus threat to the species
Durrell's page on the species
Durrell's blog on the species