Swucklings.*

It's funny really. I have all the time in the world to blog at the moment. I should be some kind of blogging machine, spurting my witty and insightful thoughts out into the webosphere.

Instead I find myself completely blogger-blocked.

I know I have lots to say, heck you know me, I have a list of things I want to blog about, but for some reason whenever I sit down to put my fingers to the keys I can almost feel my brain shutting down and the ability to form coherent sentences draining away.

I don't know what to do in these situations - should I sit down and just power through or should I just chill the heck out and hope that the floodgates open? Sometimes there's nothing more paralysing than the white page staring back at you.

It doesn't help either that I'm struggling to be positive at the moment. Like really struggling. Like treading water struggling. And no-one wants to read a blog of misery (unless I happen to have any angsty teenage readers that I don't know about?).

I thought that the best thing to do is just write something and so I thought I'd do a post that I don't normally do. I'm not usually the one for pictures of flowers/nature/this is a cup of tea posts but everyone loves pictures of baby animals? Right?

Remember the swans I showed you in this post, in their fancy-pants nest?

They had their swucklings!

Hurray for nature!


As you can see they had them quite a while ago but it's taken me an unforgiveably long time to get around to taking photos of them. These pictures were taken this Saturday when I finally remembered to take my camera out with me to the shops.

We stood for a while and watched them doing their swuckling thing. They're independent chappies now and while we were there they decided they were sick of sitting about and took themselves off for a little swim. I have decided that I will probably make the most terrible over-bearing parent ever, I was getting perturbed that the swans were far too busy preening themselves and not paying attention to what their offspring were doing.


But they just looked so tiny when they were swimming out there on their own.

But it's cool. Either Mum or Dad (unfortunately I am not able to sex swans at a distance) realised they were being adventurous souls and decided to go and chaperone and make sure everything was tickety-boo.

Apologies for swuckling-spamming you. Hopefully I will get back to normal blogging behaviour soon. I'll have to. I don't have any pictures of baby animals left.

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*EDIT: In case you missed the story I've told many times before, or think I'm a complete moron (which is apparenly the case) I know they're not called swucklings. Heck I even know the right way to spell cygnets. When I was very young, I was at the park with my Mum when some cygnets came into view, Mum said "Oh look there's some....." and immediately found her brain had gone blank with the right word, in a panic she reached for the closest mash-up of words she could and exclaimed "SWUCKLINGS."!

And hence swucklings was born.

Apologies for treating this blog as if it's my own space where I can put my own stuff. I will remember better in future and make sure all correct nomenclature is used.