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I invited Howard up for the weekend to help me change the oil in my bike, since I suspected, correctly, that I would require manly manstrength for some of the bolts. Before the operation we rode over to Dobles, the Honda dealer in Croydon, to pick up the oil filters, and Howard ended up buying a new pair of gloves while I got a jacket. So much for saving money by changing the oil yourself.

Sunday should have been a rideout, but this was cancelled due to the weather forecast. Sure enough, it caned it down all morning. Around three it became hot and sunny, and we set out with atommickbrane to lovely local museum the Horniman, where, I had learned from Twitter, a baby alpaca had been born the previous weekend.

We hung hopefully around the alpaca enclosure, and were delighted to see the as yet nameless little one emerge alongside the two adult alpacas. It had a suckle from Mum, then, once refreshed, did some wobbly, knock-kneeed gambolling before the little family retired to their stable.

Baby alpaca

A baby alpaca is called an alpacino. No, alas, it's a cria.


Or perhaps even jumping over it. Not that I've ever seen a cow jump over anything, but I'm not nearly enough of a cowpoke to know for sure that they can't do it.

(Nice icon, BTW! I rather like Hokusai's works.)
Some cows can jump over the moon!
Why, thank you! *preens icon* :)

Not seen them do it "live", but I do recall a silly season/and-finally news item some time ago about a German (I think it was) girl who wanted a showjumping horse, but whose parents wouldn't pony(!) up the cash... so she used a cow, instead.

Admittedly I don't recall the bovine showjumps being especially huge.
Interesting! And, well, why not.

but whose parents wouldn't pony(!) up the cash

Groan. :)