Wednesday 8th April 2026

Its the middle of the week. And so time for a lie in. Even if my body and brain have me awake at half five anyway.

It is to be the warmest day of the year. Tuesday wasn't just the warmest day of the year, in Anglesey, but the 25 degrees was the highest April temperatures since records began.

I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, and we should all keep drilling for oil so the executives can make more billions, who care about a planet, anyways?

The orchid season is now three to four weeks earlier than it was a decade or so back, meaning pollinators might not yet have hatched to do their pollinating jobs, meaning plants will not get pollinated, new generations of plants will fail, and those who eat plants, or whose food chain relies on plants might starve.

But plants.

It was mighty warm at Jelltex Towers, Jools went off to her fitness class at half seven, so I stayed here and drank coffee, had breakfast, then began chores. Like watering the plants, checking the ponds, filling the feeders.

And then going out for a walk.

Reading my old blogs, I see I used to walk most days, and most times up to Windy Ridge. And I hadn't been there for months.

So I put on my boots, grabbed my camera and set off.

Off over the fields to Fleet House, pausing to take shots of the track and the view to Kingsdown Leas, before turning down by the farm and up to the not-so-new bench just before the top of the down.

I sat there for half an hour, enjoying the peace, broken only by the calls of skylarks and buzzards.

Along Green Lane beside the edge of the wood, and where there were about a dozen Brimstones, one of which settled long enough for me to get a shot. I also saw a Speckled wood, a Small tortoiseshell and a Peacock, though they didn't settle.

The new owners of Windy Ridge farm have a new dog. Very barky.

It barked as I walked along the lane, when I stopped to take shots, and carried on as I walked past the farm and to the top of the track leading back down to Collingwood.

I turn for home, seeing more Lesser celandines than I have seen before along Green Lane, now spreading further and further east.

When I got home, Jools was back, so we had a glass of squash and sat on the patio until the heat forced me inside.

Yes, heat.

It had gone beyond warm, which as nice as it is, means that the only place to see out the day should be the chilled interior of a nice country pub somewhere, or one at the seaside.

We can't go far, or one of us has to stay home as there's a delivery of wine coming. My only concern it arrives before dinner time so I can test one of the bottles.

Lunch is that old standard, pork pie. Bought last week before breakfast when everything looks delicious and is swiped into the trolley.

We watch more Beatles. And its clear things are going downhill, especially after the trip to Indonesia and pissing of Imelda.

Penny Lane is still the greatest moment in popular music, an to hear it again with the band on the actual Penny Lane for the promotional film, is a joyous thing.

They even managed to squeeze in a sexual act into the lyric, and the BBC missed it.

For the afternoon there was a little churchcrawling, as I took my group to Blessed St. Mary of Walmer again, having arranged it to be open. Again. And calling the warden the day before to ensure he didn't forget.

I was even able to inform him, via Hasted, when the church's tower was taken down, as in 1800 it had already partially collapsed and contained but two bells.

The group loved the church; the Chancel arch, the Duke of Wellington link, but the glass is something left to be desired.

We were done by three, so I rushed home to pop the already boiled potatoes in the oven for dinner to go with the pie and steamed vegetables for dinner.

The evening contained no football on TV, just on the radio. So I laid on the bed, then in the bed as I followed Liverpool's match in Paris.

I woke up at ten to find they'd lost 2-0, and so it was time for more sleep.