In the days when FIL was with us, we could have asked him, it was the sort of thing that he knew about. But in his absence we asked Professor Google who turned out not to be very good at birds' eggs at all and we failed to find a site which offered decent egg identification. The RSPB site annoyed again by not offering anything in the egg department; one suspects that they are so up themselves about not seeming to encourage human (as opposed to avian) egg collectors that they have, as a matter of policy, stripped most eggy material from their site, the just leaving such articles as 'white male drifter convicted of molesting hundreds of sparrows' nests over the past 15 years by Bodmin magistrates' to remind us of the illegality of such activities.
In desperation, we guessed robin, that being another common bird in our garden, and that worked rather better. Having decided that it was a robin's egg, the Professor could come up with lots of stuff which confirmed that guess, including dealing with the dark speckles of indeterminate colour. We also learned that robin egg blue was a popular colour, responsible for lots of stuff out there on the web. All in all, not too clever; if the egg had been something unusual one might have wasted a lot of time guessing.
To work off the annoyance, out onto the back patio to finish demolishing the shed, a project which first saw the light of blog just about a month ago on the 13th April. A project which has reminded me of the importance of the capital mentioned by K. Marx in 'Das Kapital' (see http://www.das-kapital.com): a factory with the right gear can knock out a garden shed for a fraction of what it would cost me in materials alone, never mind my labour.
We were in recovery mode, so I spent several happy hours withdrawing small nails from the matchboarding which made up most of it, nails which are now destined for the recycling bin up the road. Lots of slightly used tongue-and-groove and lots of mixed lengths of two by two now cluttering up the garage awaiting the day when we find something to use it for. Another upside was an opportunity to use the miniature stillson wrench acquired from the naval uncle and all of four inches long, rather different from the first stillson I ever knew which belonged to a farm and was four feet long. All of which has prompted me to peer at Wikipedia and learn that the stillson wrench was invented by a Mr. Stillson of Walworth of south east London, back in the days when the UK was a more serious manufacturing country than it is now. The small wrench made up well for the absence of a suitable socket wrench with which to withdraw the coach bolts which tied the panels of the shed together; much more convenient than either the adjustable spanner or the mole wrench, this last not being named for the inventor, rather the name of the company for which the inventor worked, that old established Birmingham company, M K Mole & Son. Now, presumably, late & lamented.
An opportunity which closely followed on an opportunity to use the interesting saw acquired in a car boot sale some years ago and which has been hanging up in the garage roof ever since. The occasion was the cutting up of the ornamental plum tree which had been killed by pollarding and intended as a support for certain specimens of ivy and clematis, but which rotted over before any of them really took hold, a rotting over which had taken perhaps ten years. This saw would have been a quite expensive object in its day, a rip saw with just three points to the inch, while the rip saw which I do use for carpentry has six or eight. Probably not seven, that being a magic number. The new rip saw was also a good deal sharper than the old rip saw which I have failed to sharpen for twenty years or more and made short and satisfying work of the trunk of the plum tree. It also served to cut up some of the more rotten lengths of two by two from the shed.
Concrete now calls!
PS: with thanks to Wikipedia for use of their helpful picture.
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