It's late. Too late to talk about the g-d m-f golden eagle sitting on the same strutting ground this morning. Necessitating yet another morning wasted rerunning that route tomorrow.

I may have a bird bomb ready tomorrow, just in case it's back looking over the grouse breakfast buffet.

Mind you, I don't care if the eagle eats sage grouse. That's what eagles do. And as one grouse expert once said, a sage grouse doesn't die unless something kills it and eats it.

'Course, that was before anyone heard of West Nile on this continent...

No, what pisses me off about this eagle is its penchant for trying to eat grouse on my route.

And if there were time, I suppose I would tell why a neighbor, and then later the police chief, came pounding on our door this morning.

But no, there is time only for one important thing to say.

I like Camilla.

Yes, Lady Di was incredible, and I cried when she died.

I still like Camilla. Best wishes to her and her new husband.