Once I'd filled in numerous job applications, scoffed me Weetabix and ogled the four Siskins and a Jay in the garden at Dempsey Towers, I headed out over Plex to try to soothe one of my more worrying obsessions, which gets particularly bad at this time of year.
Dotterels are a beautiful nightmare - in another week or so, there's a trillion to one chance that a "trip" may touch down on Plex on the way north, but they are fussy, unpredictable birds.
Which, of course, is their appeal.
The field they'll choose is usually ploughed, bare, earth and quiet, otherwise they're in the air again after a few seconds, so after scoring with seven or so last Spring, I'm trying to narrow the odds this year, by trying to think like a Dotterel (and yes, I know, their name is a derivation of stupidity/idiocy, so I shouldn't have too much trouble).
Unfortunately, with the current warm, dry spell, perfect, spot-on fields that are the equivalent of a Dotterel motorway service station, are sprouting green shoots quicker than my job apps are being filed under "recycle" by HR departments all over the north west.
So it's gonna be particularly tricky this year.
Looking for Dotterel is always a long odds operation - yet it's infinitely better on flat Plex , than stomping up Pendle (hey, Dunc - are you sure your bird on Moel Fammau was a Red Leg? Just joking. )
But as everyone knows, long odds are always best - especially when they come in.
Once I'd got bored of checking my three chosen "Dotterel fields" (which were okay, apart from the fact there were no Dotterel in them), I had a look round Plex in general.
Plenty of Stock Doves, with a few Swallows moving through, and birds back on territory round several farm buildings, Buzzards getting mucho hassle from Magpies, especially round nesting sites, Willow Warblers singing round the coverts and lots of butterflies on the wing.
Cruising the tracksides today were Orange-tips, Small Tortoiseshell, Green Veined White, Peacocks and Speckled Woods.A flock of 28 Whimbrel were feeding in much the same place as the smaller flock was at the end of last week, in a vicious heat shimmer, alongside Stock Doves, Rooks and Skylarks. Later in the day another four were feeding between Getterns Farm and the Cheshire Lines cycletrack entrance on Plex Moss Lane.
Haskayne Cutting was disappointingly short of warblers, apart from a few Willows - I thought more would be singing on such a glorious day.
On the upside a male Yellowhammer was doing the business from a hawthorn - they just about hang on here each year. Long may they continue to do so.
Ignoring the increasingly frantic Lapwings, the moss's Oystercatchers were chilling on top of one of the WWII bunkers, in between bouts of preening and rumpy-pumpy.
Reminded me of the old Edwin Starr classic "War (What is it good for? Absolutely nothing, apart from creating man-made structures for waders/raptors/gamebirds to exploit)"
Hmm, time for a nap.
Eyes to the skies everyone, eyes to the skies...