Turf wars. And not a lego in sight.

It's been a strange couple of days.

The Elder's car gave up the ghost last night. She's been away, so it hasn't been started for something like four days. The whole time she's been gone in fact. That's right, no one loves her car like she does.

Yesterday morning, it started just fine. And off we tootled to work.

Yesterday afternoon, we clambered in. Yes, that's what I said. Clambered. I'm too darned short to do anything remotely ladylike when it comes to that car. And it wouldn't start. She tried to weave her usual magic but nothing worked. And then the battery started to die.

Fortunately, one of the GTs who lives our direction hadn't gone home yet. We abandoned the lost cause and headed home in something decent. And I got to listen to some Slipknot that I hadn't heard before.

The Team Shitbox Racing is still where we left it. I hope. We aren't talking to it, so haven't checked it.

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There has been a flock of magpies moved in recently. I don't suppose they would have hung around if the Teen hadn't decided to feed them. Usually we notice a family about for a while, but this time they've brought their cousins, aunts, uncles and other cousins twice removed with them.

Their song is pretty though, so I guess it's not too bad. As long as they annoy the neighbour.

They were making a fair bit of noise this morning. For an extended time. I didn't think anything of it, until the crows started calling. What the heck is going on?

I peeked out the window.

It was like a schoolyard! Two magpie protagonists were rolling around on the ground, pecking at each other. If one particular bird was on the ground, one or two of the watching crowd would dive in and take a peck at the one on the top.

The crows - not the big beautiful glossy ones with the ice blue eyes - were in the trees and on the lawn calling ... fight! fight! fight!

At least, that's what it sounded like...