The Joke Is On Me

Ok, I admit it, I moaned and grumbled about the weather something chronic the other day. It has continued to rain, on and off, ever since and the only time my hair is dry is when I wake up in the morning. The rest of the time, I'm popping outside to get coal and other stuff and never quite getting dry.

Why am I telling you this? Because today I couldn't help laughing. I went outside to fetch coal for the rayburn and there, peeking out of the flowerbed in the corner was the first snowdrop I have seen this year. Tiny, delicate and perfect, it came from East Lambrook Gardens (not dug up and stolen, you understand, they have a lovely plant nursery!). Now, if that wasn't the Goddess giving me a jolly good kick up the bum for complaining, I don't know what it was.

As I type, the sky has dried up and I think I shall spend a little time in the garden. This year, I didn't tidy up anything, letting leaves fall and cover the beds; it seems to have encouraged the local birds, especially our resident family of blackbirds, to root around for insects and worms. I can't think of a better excuse for not tidying up my flowerbeds than that. The garden is tiny, smaller than a pocket handkerchief, but it is a source of constant joy, though I would love something a bit bigger. Still, our ancient cat, who at 16 1/2 isn't keen to patrol a large territory, finds it sufficient for a nibble of grass and summer sunbathing.