April 8th 2018

After not posting for a few days about the goings on of my beautiful wood, I have an announcement to make, rather a smug one too;

I’ve won, I’m the first one in the Ministry to see a bluebell this year that isn’t in a photograph or book or on the TV. Victory sure tastes sweet. And this year I spied the bluebell with my number 1 son, who shall remain anonymous, but for the purpose of this entry lets call him Master A. fullsizeoutput_11b1

There it is folks, slightly out of focus and cropped but a beauty I think you’ll agree. the flood gates are well and truly open now and within a couple of weeks we shall have carpets of the things throughout the wonderful woods of Shrawley, and I will bore you all to tears with photos of them. Be warned, but when Spring finally springs and the sun comes out life is so much better. Don’t get me wrong its pretty good at present but, well, you know what I mean.

I haven’t posted aside from the A-Z challenge for 3 days due to demolitions in the bathroom, there is no longer a mirror there. Or a bath, sink, ceiling, a floor or any plasterboard on the walls, she is completely naked and ready for us to dress her. It’s been a real trial and the last time I blew my nose and it looked like it did was in Delhi about 20 years ago, the dust in the air was artery clogging today.

So on Friday C returned for a special guest appearance and walked with us, it was lovely to have her back, but strangely we noticed a few things had changed. For example; When someone lags behind we seemed to charge ahead and not wait for them. This was unusual as we always would turn and wait, making sure the lagger was safe, it’s the instinct of protection of the herd, we were like mere cats always looking out for one another when feeding or sorting out sock creep. When we arrived at the tall trees C sat down, removed a wellington and readjusted a sock, not just sock creep but a complete sock off. Sock creep, to those who don’t know is when the wrong type of sock is worn with wellington boots and it slowly creeps down the foot gathering in folds next to your toes, its uncomfortable. Very rarely does a sock off happen, it did today and was blamed on the children, the easter holidays has put everyones washing routine out. On occasion the time comes when the entire sock drawer has to be replaced, for me the time is near and I’m looking forward to it. There were gifts, chocolates for M and C, and nothing for myself and N, N is off sugar and I don’t care much for Reeses Peanut butter chocolate. They were shaped like massive chocolate tears.

There was much debate as to wether the tadpoles were all dead or all hibernating. I must admit i’d find it pretty odd if after going through all the rigmarole of being spawn, then getting out to be a tadpole, they all went to sleep again for a while. It could have been a bit too early. They all seemed to have their heads in the redundant spawn, so could have been feeding. Anyway that was on Friday, now its Sunday and I haven’t been past the Tadpoles since, I’ll be sure to let you all know on Monday.


I know I mentioned that things had changed without C being there and I can’t remember what else was different but i’m sure there was. It was decided that like the humble baked bean being the glue of breakfast, so C is the glue of the morning walk. I think we forget our manners.


Friday night was a belter, we played a ridiculous word game and ate a home made chicken madras, it was delicious, if I could pass on the recipe I would but it’s made by elves and therefore a closely guarded secret known only to the mad people who talk to the elves on a regular basis. Talking of mad people, our family was deemed suitable to foster with an aim to adopt a working cocker spaniel by the Peoples Popular Front of Spaniel Care (something like that) so we are on the look out for one from the organisation. Unless someone would like to sponsor me to walk around the woods for the next 15 years by donating a brown working cocker… I’ll await your replies.

Well, the day is now done, I am really very weary and Agatha Christie is on the telly in half an hour Good night one and all.



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