I was sat in the study/office this morning, ostensibly writing Christmas cards though, in actual fact, I was compiling a list of folk to whom we could send the cards. And absent-mindedly recycling last year's cards.
Outside, after a frosty start to the day, it had turned into a lovely sunny morning with barely a breath of wind. The North Sea and Scapa Flow looked like mill ponds and even the most enthusiastic wind turbine looked like its blades were wading through treacle.
The study window was open (which was a bit if a shock in itself) and not far from where I was sat at my desk, this fellow was also in repose, probably trying to sleep, but having to put up with my occasional mutterings as I sorted the festive list into family, friends (sooth), friends (Orkney) and 'ask Our Lass who that is'.
Displacement activity? Me?
And, of course, now I'm blogging about my prevarication. Oh dear.