Editorial

Well I’ve now finished work for the Yule and I’m ready to put my feet up. The Blog is slowly winding down in readiness for the festivities. Downstairs Mum is baking for Britain, or at least a small sized army. All the booze is in, having made a late rush yesterday afternoon to assuage my brother’s unusual tastes he’s now declared he only drinks Samuel Adams Boston beer! I thought they drank tea in Boston, but what do I know? Thank God everyone else drinks Theakston’s and Barolo and Sancerre and in fact anything else to hand including the cooking sherry.


Outside the snow lies deep and crisp and even and we’re not short of the odd sod either, although we certainly look set for a White Christmas.



Nature however is nothing like the soft cuddly world that townies think it is. Mid morning a migrating snipe landed in the garden exhausted and sat motionless for over an hour trying to recuperate before wandering off.


My regular birds are finding it tough going even with plenty of food. A swift, silent death came to one of my favourite blackbirds this morning and despite rushing out with a broom failed to save him. The killer turned with a quick hop and fixed me with her baleful yellow eyes as if to say one more step and you’re next.

Later she returned to taunt me, as always when wonderful photographic opportunities arise, the wrong camera was at hand, set up totally wrongly, but there was no time….at least I got off a couple of shots for Crime-Watch.

I will be providing a very limited cover over Christmas but hopefully normal service will resume after Boxing Day. Interestingly it looks as though we will have something to celebrate on our return as our counter is hanging precariously close to the 40,000 mark.