I should write more here.
So, my car is in the garage today, getting new tyres (don’t ask about the flat yesterday, which I was fortunate to have a handy photographer with me to change it, as whoever did the tyres last tightened them wih a machine. Grrrr… 
), so we are driving down to pick it up. We *just* have time to pick the kids up on the way, if we don’t muck around.
Dave is in the driver’s seat and following this Toyota Kluger that does not know when to speed up and slow down, nor which side of the line is his when suddenly we screech to a halt. “What is it?” I cried, madly looking around. After the flat yesterday, and the ‘clunk’ I imagined I heard just before we stopped, I figured there was something wrong with the car. But no – “Wompoo fruit-dove!” he says, excitedly, “You hardly ever see them around here!” and jumps out with a camera to take a photo.
No good shots to show you, apparently. It flew off as he attempted to sneak up on it.
And it was back on the road.
