Wednesday 28th February 2018

Last day of February

Now, for the past decade since moving to St Maggies, we have paid more and more attention of the lands and plants surrounding where we live, noticing the changes in the seasons and years. What we learned is that each year, season on season, is different. We notice when the first flowers appears, when fruit appears in the hedgerows, or whether it has been a good harvest or not, and what might have caused the poorer harvest. My point being that this week, we have seen a new phenomenon.

Although it hasn't snowed for 36 hours, it is mighty cold. The wind is desiccating plants and bulbs in our garden, and others around here. First of all we saw the two daffodils open in the front garden had keeled over. The plant by plant, stalks and leaves have withered and shrivelled. What is left of the grass in the back garden is now stunted and grey, which might be good news for the wild flower seeds sowed in the autumn.

Today (Thursday), temperatures are not going to get above minus four, with the wind being expected to be at a steady 50mph until into tomorrow. But now snow is expected to fall. And yet trains between Ramsgate and Dover have been cancelled. FOR THE DAY! I am struggling to see why to be honest. I have just been out to put the bins out, put loads of food out for the them hungry birds, who wait for me to go outside, lining up on the hedges near the feeders.

I wrote the above at seven this morning, and son after the first snowflake was seen. Soon that turned into a flurry, and while the flurry did not turn into a blizzard, it was quite wintery for a few hours. All snow had stopped by lunchtime, and so all to see are birds still looking for seeds.

Wednesday I was back at work, trying to catch up with my e mails. Which was easy if you just ignored the ones sent on the days I was ill.

Anyway, back in the jug agane, and loving it. Living the dream, getting endless emails explaining why things cannot be done as they should be.

I digress.

Outside when the rest of the country is basking under at least several inches of show, we have endless sunshine and what little snow we had, melted PDQ, so I drink tea watching the birds search for more seeds I had put out. The sun shines for most of the day, but is bitterly cold, even cool in the house, which means I probably don't move around as much as I should. In fact come four, I decide to do some phys, get back on the cross trainer, but as it happened, just walking up the stairs to the bedroom brought me into a five minute long coughing fit that made me change my mind. The cats watch my every move in case I decide to feed them early, I don't of course, but Molly shadows me anyway, just in case.

Molly is back to her bubbly self, and one would hardly think she has had a health scare. She is filling out well and looks like an adult cat, has eyes full of sparkle and mischief at times. Seeing her like that makes us both so happy, as we thought we were going to lose her just two months ago.

I warmed up the pasta pie I made before Christmas and had been in the freezer since. Easy too cook, so I made some focaccia bread to go with it. A bit too much, carbs on carbs, but tasty.

One thing and another, we are both pretty pooped, me despite having done very little. I am listening to Spurs v Rochdale on the radio, Jolls goes to bed and is soon snoozing. Spurs were 5-1 with 20 minutes to go, and I give up too.