Whilst partaking in my customary post prandial perambulation along the rustic thoroughfare that meanders adjacent to my abode, I chanced upon a most serendipitous sight nestled amidst the verdant fringe of the lane insomuch this exquisite pair of perfectly poached eggs.
And fuck off Jacob Rees Mogg.
Boy racer slugs been doing handbrake turns again !
Chose to make presents this year. Mostly birdboxes, made out of recycled floor boards. This one is now in Gaynor’s garden. 28mm hole suitable for tits, sparrow, nuthatch, pied flycatcher. Or whatever might turn up in a suburb of Wrexham.
I won’t hear a word against Jacob Rees Mogg – we think he does a great job.
Primroses, celandine and the Chiff Chaffs are back. It must be 18th March.
Fallen ash trees turn into Axolotls it seems. Who knew?
No, not investigating a potential nuclear shelter. The infinite wisdom of the previous owner at Fedw Fawr led him to half-fill the septic tank with rubble. Well it is a hole I suppose. Anyway, couldn’t empty the tank properly so I had to fumble around in the bottom 18 inches of goo (rhymes with) for an assortment of bricks, slates and plumbing paraphernalia. Oh how I laughed. It was just like a bran tub except the prizes were rubbish and the bran was a bit soggy.
Insect numbers in freefall worldwide. Can’t think why!
Charlie’s store, Aberystwyth
We spend an inordinate amount of time watching the birds on our garden feeder: the characters, the pecking-order, the antics. No fewer than 5 jays regularly visit for a fill up on the fat-balls. Stunning, underrated birds…