Last Sunday, a blaze of sunshine lured me – and my furry helpers – into the garden from breakfast until dusk. Advertisements
Outside, buds on the early daffodils are still resolutely closed on short stubby stems; but spring has come early to one windowsill inside.
Our cottage stands atop a hill, where it is buffeted by the winds: the price to be paid for gazing out across fields and woods, hills and valleys.
On Christmas Day, we dug up the first of this winter’s parsnips.
After yesterday’s washout, and a wet start this morning, the sun at last came out.