wol

My family has a serious thing for owls, having raised two spotted eagle owl chicks when I was still at school. The surviving owl, the legendary Fred, lived in our garden for years and was semi-tame enough to come into the kitchen or stomp down the passage into the bedroom, hooting to herself - and, in fact, to try and nest in my mother's cupboard, in the remnants of a thoroughly destroyed straw hat. Fred-offspring were later actually produced on my dad's workbench in the shed. We like owls.

Da Niece appears to have inherited this liking, if her choice of birthday cake theme is any indication. In this case the wol is psychedelic, as only a three-year-old can possibly appreciate. The different-coloured eyes are particularly trippy. I also rather like Da Niece's incredibly grubby face in this shot.