Holiday thoughts

My thoughts are all centred on holidays at the moment.

This morning I rang to pay the final instalment on our holiday in France in May. Just the idea of that holiday has kept us going through this rather long, & very cold, winter. Now we just have to await the tickets & then, hopefully, we're off for a couple of weeks in the sun.

My next task is to sort out a hotel in London for our weekend in London. Curiously this is more problematic than sorting out a hotel in Nice. There are just so many hotels to chose from. They're not always clear on their websites about their disabled facilities. To make it worse our knowledge of London is such we have to check just where streets are. We want to stay somewhere near the theatre, preferably within easy walking distance.

Meanwhile my thoughts go to the poor people in Chile with today's news of a massive earthquake there. I feel the world is only just recovering from the devastation caused by the earthquake in Haiti. I gather this quake is considerably stronger but fortunately preliminary news suggests it took place in a fairly underpopulated area so, with a bit of luck, the damage & loss of life shouldn't be as great. I certainly pray that is the case.

Signs of spring

The birds are definitely turning their attention to the idea of love. Beaks are increasingly full of twiggery collected for nest building. My feelings of spring are not so certain.

We had a quick trip into Lancaster to collect my new knee braces. On the way we pass Rylands Park with its great drifts of snowdrops steadily turning into drifts of crocuses. Another month & it will be drifts of daffodils & narcissi.

And yet I can't help remembering the snow last Sunday. The comparative mildness at the moment feels more like the warmth that sometimes comes before a snowstorm. Previously it had been too cold for snow. Certainly Lancaster had a backdrop of snow-clad Pennines.

Today we're off to the Farmers' Market. I'm hoping to get some pork & fish. It's always a pleasure & a chance to have a bit of a chat with some of the farmers.

Success at last

I've done it! I can't quite believe it! There is great celebrating in the Foxes' den, along with a vague sense of disbelief.

The cause of all this euphoria is the fact I've finally manage to buy a couple of tickets to see "Les Miserables" at a matinee performance at the Queen's Theatre in London. We've got a mini-box for two, a loge, on the dress circle for £40 for the two of us. Three cheers! And you can't complain about the price.

It's a long time since either of us have visited London. It was before we were married & we're coming up to our 35th wedding anniversary this year.

We've not decided how long we're going for. That depends on what packages are offered at the hotels. But we're thinking of a couple of nights minimum. But with the right offer.....

Unlike the Fox, I have been to a West End show before now. That must have been over 40 years ago. My parents decided it was time my brother & I should see a bit of the capital of our country, so we had a holiday staying on the outskirts of London, at Weybridge staying in a hotel with a golf course - essential for my Dad's holiday contentment.

One day we visited the National Gallery, Trafalgar Square, then, in the afternoon, on to see a farce at a theatre on the Strand starring Leslie Phillips to get back to the hotel in time for dinner. My mother wasn't feeling so well so she'd stayed behind at the hotel.

How we got through the whole of the National Gallery in about an hour I don't know. It was a whirlwind tour but that was my father for you.

The last time I went to London I visited the National Gallery again & spent the best part of an hour just looking at one painting, Monet's "Water Lily Pond".

Now we just have to hope finding the hotel & trains a bit easier than the theatre tickets.

Cold & quiet

The world is certainly white. But what else can you expect with a temperature of -11 this morning? The ground looks frozen solid. My heart goes out to the wildlife having to survive outside in this.

It's one of those strange mornings when I have nothing much to do. We're eating out tonight - last-Monday-of-the-month time again. This time we're going Chinese. Last time we ate out as a group, the food was disappointing for most people (I was the only lucky exception with a very nice coq au vin). So we're playing safe this time.

Undoubtedly Ricky's is one of the, if not the best Chinese restaurant I've ever eaten in. The food is fabulous, the staff friendly & attentive, even asking if you want a little break between courses to restore your appetite. It should be good.

Winter is back

The day just doesn't know what to do with itself. One moment I look out of the window & great flakes of snow are falling, the world turning rapidly white. Then I look again & now the snow has turned to rain & washed the world back to wet greyness. A few minutes later & it's snowing once more & the world white. My one conclusion is that this not a day for me to venture out to church upon. Instead I'm staying inside, snug & warm, catching up on "The Archers" & events in Ambridge.

I did give my cousin a ring earlier on. In Stoke I gather there's 4 inches of snow & still falling. She was just back from taking the dog for a walk. He loves the snow.

I then ring Linda to see how she's doing now. She's recovered from Valentine's Day now. She's off to Bedford today for some meeting. She's going well prepared - spare duvet, water, something hot to drink - in case it turns into a very long drive. She feels rather wrongly dress for an important meeting she's got for tomorrow but at least she's not taking chances getting there.

And to think I was writing about signs of spring only yesterday! And in the afternoon, the Fox & I had walked down to our village pub admiring the views across the Bay & the great job of renovation of the prom the council has done. We'd watched the oystercatchers rootling around in the field by the side. We'd admired the pink flush on the fells as we came home. We'd appreciated the way the light caught every pocket of water of the so-recently covered sands - on the way there the tide was gently lapping against the sea wall, by the time we came back an hour later the sea was way out in the middle of the bay.

And now winter is back....

A Hint of spring

The sun is shining brightly. Frost still sparkles on the ground. Yet the crocuses are opening up goldenly in our front garden. I'm not quite sure how we seem to have ended up with all but one crocus being yellow, the sole exception being a white one. Last year they were real mixture with a fair number of purples. Still maybe spring is finally showing signs of coming.

Yesterday I wasn't quite so convinced - a very grey & wet day. Even a bit of snow!

This morning I ventured round the corner of the house to see if it was possible to get to the compost bin yet - the rain had formed the inevitable lake across the way yesterday. I heard a strange noise. As I turned the corner a sparrow & a blackbird abandoned their baths & flew off into the hedge. Yes, the lake was definitely there & these visitors had obviously claimed it as their bathtub! At least the water wasn't frozen as so much of the garden is.

Wasted trips

The day starts with a 8.30am appointment at the hospital. I need some new knee braces. The old ones have either lost their stretch with age or my legs have lost yet more muscle.

So we have to get across Lancaster in the midst of rush hour. From the number of heavies making their way from the port, a ferry must have just come in from the Isle of Man or Ireland, just adding to the traffic. The only good thing to say is that it's half-term so at least we don't have to contend with the school-runs as we pass a number of schools en route.

Finally we get there. After a 10 minute wait, I go in to see the man. Yes, I want another pair the same as last time. Yes, they did ease the pain so were doing the job. Yes, I did have a change of braces last time as the manufacturers of the old design had changed the design making them no longer appropriate. Yes, I was allergic to neoprene precluding most brands of knee braces. All this I could, & did, tell them over the phone. And, yes, I'd just confirmed all that was already written down in the notes before him. Did he measure my legs in case of muscle loss? No. They'll give me a ring when the new braces arrive & I'll have to make another trip to collect them.

We were home by 9am, our day disrupted. Neither of us felt very settled all day. And for what? Something that could have been done just as easily on the phone.

We've been fancying going to London for a couple of days to see a show, specifically "Les Mis". We've been finding it very frustrating organising it ourselves. We've got to ring the theatre just to ensure wheelchair accessible seats for example. So, yesterday afternoon we thought we'd get the travel agent to organise it for us.

Another waste of trip. She came up with a figure, well over £500. Is that including a rail reduction as we're a disabled person & carer? No. Will there be assistance arranged to help us at the stations? No, you'll have to organise that yourself. Are the theatre tickets for a wheelchair accessible seat? No, we'll have to ring the theatre personally. Or email, she says giving an address we'd previously tried, just to be given the theatre's phone number to ring. What about the hotel? They will notify the hotel of our preference for a wheelchair accessible room but can't guarantee it.

Well that's a fat lot of use. Pay considerably more for the train, fight around stations with the Fox pushing me & carrying a case, to stay in a hotel we may not be able to get into the bedroom of, to see a show we may not be able to see as we can't get to the seats!

So we're back to doing it ourselves & are beginning to wonder if it's worth the effort. Certainly yesterday's trips weren't.

Scent attack

I'm beginning to think my sense of smell is going a bit berserk.

It began on Friday when we popped to the shops to buy some fresh basil. By the time the Fox had put my wheelchair back in the boot of the car, the inside seemed filled with the fragrance of the herb. How such a little pot can produce so much perfume is beyond me.

Yesterday's scent was different. Again we went down to the shops. This time we bought some spring onions. They were maybe not so pungent at first. We stopped to buy some petrol before we left the supermarket grounds. Then the smell was assaulting my nose, a heady concoction. Normally the most I smell at petrol stations is petrol, & then only when I have the window open.

What surprised me even more, was that on Friday, when I came to cook I forgot all about the basil. I made a sausage & pasta dish for dinner. Fortunately the basil was meant to be torn up on top at the last minute. And what a difference it made when I hastily added it to the meal! A real lift.

Hopefully we won't forget about the spring onions. The Fox is cooking today. This time a pasta & smoked salmon dish. The spring onions are a more integral part of the meal. It should be good. By then I expect to be under attack from a different scent. I shall be picking some fresh fennel from the front garden. That too is going in the meal.

Valentine's Day

It almost looks autumnal outside. Damp pervades the air - a feeling of everything dripping. It's misty rather than raining. I would say it's the season of mists & mellow fruitfulness only there isn't much sign of fruitfulness. The only thing that could be regarded as potentially fruitful is that some of the birds seem to be turning their minds to love & attracting mates.

Yesterday was Valentine's Day. As usual we virtually forgot about it. It wasn't until dinner that the Fox suddenly remembered he'd got some chocolate for me, only he'd forgotten to get it out of hiding for me to find in the morning.

After dinner I gave Linda a ring about the last-Monday-of-the-month meal. Then the full impact of Valentine's Day hit. Linda, still just in her early 50s, was widowed last April. This was her first Valentine's Day without Dave. Last year they'd been happily on holiday in Mexico. The hotel had asked them when their wedding anniversary was. As they didn't want a fuss, they said February 14 (it's actually a couple of days later), thinking there would be so many anniversaries that day the hotel couldn't make a fuss of them all. They were mistaken.

Fortunately I said the right thing for once. I commented we never made a fuss of Valentine's Day. It's a poor sort of love if you only celebrate it on one day of the year. Linda was so relieved. That is just what she'd wanted to hear. Dave, her husband, always told her it was a load of commercial nonsense & she'd needed to hear someone tell her so. I hope I'd helped.

Having been reminded of the day, we thought we'd open a bottle of pink fizzy stuff in the evening. Our choice of music was a disc entitled "My Funny Valentine", a compilation of classic love songs. But we weren't really in the mood - a mixture of exhaustion from doing the Sunday housework chores & a sombreness of mood after my chat to Linda. Though one thing we did agree on. We were both very pleased each other was there, to embrace, to kiss, to love. And that's worth celebrating 365/6 days of the year!

To church?

I thought I'd get to church today. There was still a bit of frost about. I put on my new boots & set off. I got the Mean Machine, my electric scooter, out of the garage, stopped to close & lock the door, then I was on my way.

As I went along I admired the snowdrops peeping out in the gardens. a sign the winter may soon be over.

Halfway along the road the first drop fell. I thought it must be my imagination. The lampposts had damp patches as the frost melted on the upper metal parts & dripped down on to the concrete. There were definitely a couple of wet dots on my coat sleeve.

I continued on my way. By the time I reached the end of the road another drop had arrived. There was no mistaking it this time.

I hastily turned round & headed home again. Neither the Mean Machine nor I appreciate getting wet much.

As I'd gone along, a neighbour had waved a greeting. Now she looked bemused as I passed her house once more so soon.

And I returned once more to catch up on the latest events in "The Archers" & to start a new jigsaw.

A day out

The last couple of days have been beautiful. The sun has shone even if the temperature has never been far from freezing point. The Lakeland fells have a thin scattering of snow covering them, sufficient to emphasise the contours of the land rather than to bury them in whiteness.

We made the most of it. On Wednesday we set off for Kendal for a change. Our trip into Lancaster had been a bit of a rush. We'd collected the computer (thankfully now working) but that was about it.

In Kendal we thought we'd start with a visit to a shop we've never often visited. We came out armed with some things for the kitchen we've been seeking for ages, plus a pair of high heels shoes & some boots for me. As we had to go back to the car with all the parcels anyhow, we decided to quit while we were ahead. The shop had been effortless. The only thing we hadn't got was a new sweater for the Fox but, as winter is drawing to an end (we hope), we felt that could wait a bit longer.

On the way back we stopped in Carnforth. First we had a quick visit to the Booth's supermarket. It isn't often we visit Booth's. It tends to be a bit pricey, but it does have a far more interesting range of products, especially cheeses, than we usually get here in Morecambe. We also bought about some of their special frozen meals. These may be expensive but they are good, a quality I wouldn't be ashamed of having made myself from scratch. It's always useful to have a few in the freezer for those days when you don't feel much like cooking. Some of them microwave in just minutes.

Then we moved on to the Canal Turn. This pub is right on the canal. They have a lovely conservatory . Here we sat over a sandwich & a drink, snug in the warmth, watching the activity on the canal.

The canal is wider at this point allowing even long narrowboats to turn. There's dry dock facilities on the other side of the canal from the pub. There were a fair number of boats on the water that day, mainly brightly coloured narrowboats though there were a few white fibreglass ones too. One narrowboat leisurely came up the canal & moored alongside.

There's a gap between buildings where the drive leads up from the main road to the pub car park. The water along this more open stretch was ruffled into waves by the breeze. In the more shaded spots there was a thin layer of ice.

People come regularly to feed the birds here, with the result there are always birds on the water. This day it was mallards & black-headed gulls. They made a bee-line to the edge if anyone stood near there rummaging in a bag. They obviously knew the signs of din-din time.

From time to time the birds got out of the water onto the ice. They waddled around. Every couple of steps a leg could be seen slip-sliding one way or the other. They're clearly no better at walking on ice than humans are. On the ice it was obvious how much larger mallards are compared to the gulls, how much bird is under the water when they're swimming.

All in all it made an enjoyable break. This pub is always pleasant to visit on a sunny day. In summer you can sit out virtually on the towpath. There is always so much activity, be it human or avian. Something to see & make you smile.

We headed home, thinking we should have more days like this. It was a pleasant change, both of routine & place, a real morale boost.

It's ready

I'm just about to put the eggs in the pan to fry for dinner when the phone rings. This is the second call while cooking a fairly quick dinner! I answer it - the Fox is busy keeping an egg on the ham saute. It's the computer shop. They think they've solved the problem. So today we're off to collect the laptop yet again. This time the Fox isn't leaving the shop until he's tried to boot up. Thankfully they say there will be no further charge.

While we're in Lancaster I'm hoping to have a quick look at some of the other shops. I desperately need some new high heel shoes. The rubber at the bottom of the heels of my present pair has worn away but the uppers are too far gone to be worth taking them to the cobbler's.

It's a psychological thing. I somehow don't feel right in a skirt/dress in flat shoes. Partially it's because I'd don't feel the latter look elegant enough for the outfit. Partially it's because I always feel dumpier in flat shoes. This doesn't bother me when I'm wearing trousers. Then practicality is the name of the game. But in a skirt/dress I'm trying to look more elegant, more attractive. I want to give the impression of being tall & thin, even now when I'm only going to be seen sat when nobody has any idea how tall I am. Some things don't change.

I don't mind it in summer. I'll happily wear sandals, even flat sandals, with skirt or dress then. Why the difference? I've no idea. I suppose it's partly that sandals always look lighter than most rather clunky flat shoes. Whatever. The fact remains I need some new high heels.

It's a strange fact but there is a shortage of decent shoe shops in Morecambe. There's one very cheap shop - a fiver a pair - & one other. I've had no luck in the latter so a trip to Lancaster or further afield is called for.

But first, & even more importantly, we're getting the laptop back. We've both missed it badly. Booting up the main computer seems so much more effort if you're only going to be on it for a short time.

John Dankworth

I was sorry to hear of the death of John Dankworth. This morning on "Today" on BBC Radio 4, they commented how strange, & brave, Cleo had been in the way his death was announced. She'd gone on & done her performance. It was only when the last piece, intended to star John himself, was due that she came on to announce his death. Then afterwards people were able to stop & chat about John.

I couldn't help thinking in some ways this was a beautiful way to do it. John was a performer. The audience at the Stables was almost an extended family. And at the end of the day isn't being about to talk about the deceased what wakes are about? It's the opportunity to share treasured memories, frustrations etc, always spoken of with love. These memories affirm the value of the dead, are consoling to the bereaved & grief-stricken. It most have been bolstering to Cleo & their children to have been surrounded by that love at such a time, even though the rest of the show would have been a challenge to undertake. But even that was a celebration of the life of John & his love of jazz.

Yes I have no bananas today

The world is in soft focus today. Mist shrouds the place. Trees & houses appear & disappear as the mist swirls around. All a bit other worldly.

I've been getting on with the ironing. As usual I had BBC Radio 4 on. At the end of "Saturday Live" there is a little feature on inheritance tracks, in which people, usually celebrities but not always, choose a piece of music they feel they've inherited from their childhood but which they still have a nostalgic affection for, & a track they nominate for future generations to value similarly.

I've sometimes played this game to myself. I know what would be my inherited track. Without doubt it would be "Yes, we have no bananas today".

Why? In my childhood home, music was virtually banned, despite the fact my mother's family were semi-professional musicians & my mother's mother lived with us when I was young. Yet I did have an urge for music. We did have a violin, my Gran's, in the house & a stand-up piano. Neither were ever played. We also had loads of sheet music, presumably that had arrived with my Gran.

The violin never attracted me. Maybe because even to my childish ear any endeavour on that untuned instrument was torture. But with the piano I did surreptitiously lift the lid & have a go at trying to teach myself. One of the books of music was a manual to teach piano & from this I learnt something of fingering. But the first piece of music I managed to play that sounded like a proper tune, worthy to sing to, was "Yes, I have no bananas today." My pride was unbounded.

I suppose my other reason is that all the adults in my childhood home had survived the deprivations of two world wars. My mother often spoke of the shortage of such luxuries as bananas in those days. To her dying days she kept a vast store cupboard full of tea, sugar, tinned fruit, ready for the next great war. Thankfully that time never came, but her fear of the possibility was tangible.

My track to leave is uncertain. I go between three I think. One would be Simon & Garfunkel's "Bridge over Trouble Waters", a song I've always loved. I always liked the image of a love so great that a person would lie down to act as a bridge over troubled waters to ease the way for you. That person I found in the Fox.

The second would be the gravelly voice of Louis Armstrong singing "What a Wonderful World." It expresses so much of the wonder I feel about the world around me & I would wish everyone could share.

The third would be Ella singing Cole Porter's "Every Time we Say Goodbye". Once, when I was in hospital awaiting ops on my knees, the hospital radio team came round for requests. The Fox, who was visiting, & I chose something by Cole Porter preferably with Ella singing. This was the piece they played. As Ella moved from major to minor, the sung pulled on our heartstrings. Although we both hoped for the best from the ops, we couldn't be sure. When we parted that evening, not knowing if I'd even survive, we both died a little & wept a little. Now whenever I hear that song, particularly the sheer pathos in Ella's voice as she changes chords, I'm back in that ward, fearing I'd never see the Fox again & dying a little.

No I think it would be the second song. Future generations need to be reminded of the sheer wonder of the world. That would be a valuable gift indeed to leave to future generations.

Machinery blindspot

Readers of the Fox's blog will know about the problems we're having with our laptop. I'm just relieved when we tried to switch on at home, it was the Fox who decided to boot up first. At least this time it's not my fault. I wasn't even in the same room!

There is nothing so frustrating as a piece of machinery that doesn't work. It ceases to be of value & becomes to a useless lump of metal etc.

There are times when I wish I could appreciate the challenge of sorting out these hiccoughs but I don't. It's as simple as that. I'll happily spend hours fitting pieces together in a jigsaw, sorting out some sewing or knitting, but mechanical bits is another matter.

Part of it is that I don't really like handling metal. This struck me when I once sat in on a jewelry class & was told to file some metal to smooth the edges on a potential bracelet. I suddenly realised what the Fox had had against metalwork at school. Wood is warm & sensual, metal cold & unyielding. No, give me card (for jigsaws) or fabrics any time.

But it isn't just that. If there is something in the software side of computers I can't get right, I'd sooner call upon the Fox for help. I'm just not interested. However, I'll spend hours on a crossword, sudoku, polygons & other such puzzles.

The workings of equipment just don't interest me. I don't need to understand its workings as long as it does its job. The fascination of its workings, or failure to work, I leave to others.

Cold & heat

It was freezing yesterday. The thickness of frost on the cars along the road was incredible. Nonetheless it was bright & dry at first, so I decided to get out the Mean Machine ( my electric scooter) & venture down to the fish shop.

As usual I went along the prom. The first think that struck me was that everyone I saw seemed to be accompanied by at least one dog. I found myself thinking that maybe we ought to get a dog. The Fox has been told by his GP to get a bit more exercise, something like walking. One thing about a dog is that they insist on going for walks whatever the weather.

I continued on. It seemed so quiet. Across the bay, land, icy blue, emerged from the soft greyness. I crunched across the ice where the water passes down the cliffs across the promenade to the sea. I was glad I wasn't walking. I suspect that would have put me on my backside!

I got my fish & returned home by the same route. Beautifully peaceful if somewhat cold.

Home once more, I set about making fricandilla (fish balls to you & me).

I popped in the back garden to collect some fresh parsley. As I chopped the parsley, I was astounded by how noisy it was. Then I realised what I thought was wetness was in fact small pieces of ice caught between the curls of the leaves. I've never had that happen before. When I'd collected marjoram & fennel from the garden after rootling through the snow earlier this year, I hadn't come across this phenomenon. It shows just how cold it must have been.

By the afternoon the snow was falling once more. Not very thickly, thank heavens, this time. Even so the world was still partially covered with white this morning, more ice than snow. Most seems to have disappeared again now.

When will this winter end? It seems to have been particularly long & cold this year. We've had more snow & ice than ever before since we moved here in 2000. And it's certainly not doing much for my aches. My knees are getting very hot at night. I half expect to look down to see flames licking around my legs.

I eagerly greet the sight of the snowdrops, the sight of crocus buds turning golden in our garden, the first lambs with their mums in the fields, with joy. I'm ready for spring & some warmth.

An afternoon chat

Yesterday was certainly a day of lively discussion at the Pub. The Fox has already recorded some of the range of conversation on his blog.

As usual we did the Times 2 crossword. It seemed easier than usual & was quickly finished. We moved on to the Quiz in the paper. I was astounded when the Fox got the answer Amy Winehouse to one question.

There was a bit of talk of blues music as one of our friends had been to a blues festival at Skegness over the weekend.

Then Rob, the chef arrived. Our thoughts moved to more culinary matters. He had been astounded by one of Heston's recipes for salmon cooked in liquorice jelly. He went on to describe it. The salmon was cooked in, & coated with, this thick black jelly made with liquorice root. Rob thought it looked pretty disgusting & hated to think what it must taste like.

I couldn't help pointing out that liquorice is essentially an aniseed flavour & you wouldn't hesitate to use dill when cooking salmon. What is more, if the cooked salmon was cut in half just think of the visual affect of that black jelly edging that glorious pinky orange of the fish. Quite stunning I would of thought. Rob suddenly saw the point of the recipe.

Rob got called away to the kitchens. Another friend, Paul, chipped in.

"Do you know about the Abraham brothers? I don't expect you will."

With one accord the Fox & I replied, "Oh, the early photographers based in Keswick?" That surprised Paul.

The conversation then turned to the trials of those early photographers hauling their great heavy large format cameras & plates up and down the fells. The brothers took some fabulous pictures of the mountains & climbing them.

By way of light relief, as that topic drew to an end, Paul's wife, Cheryl, explained the moral quandary she feels she's in.

She keeps hens. Recently they'd got a new speckled hen. This bird had then attacked her other hens, pecking out their feathers. She then sent all the hens for rehab so hopefully they would learn how to live peaceably together. She'd just got them back the day before. From a vast pen of hens she'd had to pick her hens from the others being treated.

This morning, she went through her usual routine. Three came rapidly for feeding as they recognised the sounds, but no speckled hen. Eventually the latter was found.

"You're not Clarrie, are you?" Cheryl said to the hen. The hen looked sorrowful & confused, shaking her head.

Now Cheryl isn't sure whether to let the people who'd treated the hens know. This new speckled hen is certainly better-natured than the one she'd taken there, but she wasn't Clarrie. Would the owners of this second bird notice or care, provided they got a hen that was a good layer? Cheryl is certainly pleased to have harmony in the hen house once more. But this isn't her bird. Should she tell? Should she make the hundred-mile round trip back to see if she could exchange this one & get Clarrie back? Or should she just keep quiet & learn to love the newcomer?

It's amazing the range of topics an afternoon in the Pub can cover.

The bird watch

The world has gone white once more. Now it is with very heavy frost.

The weekend was the weekend of the RSPB annual garden birdwatch. As you will probably have realised by now, I'm always happy to have an excuse for spending an hour watching the birds in our garden. I got around to doing it yesterday.

I was surprised with the results. It seemed quite different from last year. The harsh winter must be having its effect.

We seem to have been taken over by starlings this year. We rarely have any. This time I counted 16 at one time! When I told our friend, Den, this, he demanded the return of his starlings. They've disappeared from their garden. Now he suspects he knows where they've gone!

I was shocked by the depletion of house sparrows. These cheeky chappies have been regular visitors to our restaurant over the years. But this time just 2 appeared, one male & one female. As for dunnocks, forget them.

The one unexpected surprise was the appearance of a mistle thrush scuttling across our frozen lawn. I haven't seen one of those for years. They seem symbolic of the garden of my childhood. It came as a shock to discover their absence here. At least we seem to encouraged the blackbirds to return with a certain amount of careful neglect of our garden.

As usual I question the validity of the results. Most days a magpie haunts our garden but it didn't put in an appearance yesterday so isn't included in the count. I can only hope a neighbour has been similarly busy & counted it there.