There is a storm blowing outside: the manifestation of the metaphorical turmoil that is in the air around us at the moment. It is a time to hold our loved ones close – if not literally then at least in our hearts and minds. And to remind ourselves of our own values which do not require violence, puerile tweets or egotistical rants to back them up.
So this post is for my daughter who is working her socks off for her 4th year medical exams and for my son who has just got his first teaching job, in a proper (multi-denominational) school which will treat him like an adult and support him in every professional way as he starts his teaching career.
So I could talk about the walk the other day with the dogs through the damp grass which was bent like a Hokusai wave, on which the Labrador managed to despatch two rabbits; or I could tell you about the shrew that I spotted scuttling into the Old Man’s kitchen as I sat talking to him in the living room, and which proceeded to do a full tour of the house – via French windows, underneath the TV and then through to the breakfast room (all without TOM managing to see it) while I made vain efforts to humanely catch and release it whence it came.
But no more jokes about illegal immigrants this week.
Instead I will just show pictures of the straight lines and pleasing colours and blooms in the garden. Just before the wind and rain battered it to destruction…