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What do you reckon?


Scully
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I wouldnt want to see the pigeon on there, or anything else we shoot. Just imagine the capital to be made from us being seen to shoot the national bird!

 

I'll go for robin or wren, but I can see the case for all of them.

Agreed, the woodie was a bit tongue in cheek really. Wouldn't be disappointed if the Wren was chosen.

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I will wait until after the election results...be it either a BLUE tit or RED robin.. it certainly wont be a GREEN finch or indeed a BLACK bird if UKIP get it.

 

I suppose being a monarchy the Mute Swan would be favoured by many.

 

I think it should be a resident Bird synonymous with the British personality and for that reason I would go with the Wren...its a feisty little bird, the loudest in the woodland, a great survivor ( 90+ per cent were wiped out after the winter of 63 ) and its Latin name ( troglodytes troglodytes), signifies where we all evolved from.. I believe in some parts of Wales the natives do still live in caves, never bathe and drag their women about by their hair :yes::lol:

Edited by Fisherman Mike
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The ones at the bottom of our garden were all in the trade union and the hiring rate was too high. :(

there is a reason for that

 

 

Father Christmas was not in a very good frame of mind - in fact he was very depressed.

 

That morning after breakfast, Mrs Santa had told him that her Mother wasoming over to stay 'for a few days' and he knew that would be for several weeks, and as Christmas was approaching her visit was the last thing that he wanted.

 

The Elves had neen playing up and had gone on strike for more pay. The replacement elves Santa had put in were much slower and the number of toys that had been made was way down.

 

Father Christmas went to visit his Reindeers and found that two of them were pregnant and another two had kicked down the fence and had disappeared into the forest. He was by now even more depressed.

 

What I need is a drink he thought, but upon going indoors he found that the elves had hidden his Whisky and there was nothing left to drink in his liquour cabinet. Deciding upon a coffee he went into the kitchen but managed to drop the Jar of Coffee all over the floor. Now he really was cheesed off!

 

He went to fetch the broom to sweep up the mess but found that the mice had chewed off all the bristles.

 

At that moment there was a knock at the front door.

 

Upon opening it, Father Christmas was confronted by a beautiful Fairy holding a lovely Christmas Tree.

 

"Good Morning, Santa" she called "Isn't it a really lovely day. I have bought you this beautiful tree, isn't it lovely? Where would you like me to stickit?"

 

And that is why by tradition we have a Fairy sitting on top of our Christmas Trees.

no wonder the rates were so high............

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