‘Tis a grand durty day.

There is no other way of describing it.

When I got up this morning and looked out the window it was snowing heavily. Great big feathery flakes were pouring down with the promise of a decent layer of snow. That was not to be.

Very soon after, the snow stopped and turned to a sort of halfhearted drizzle. The snow that had fallen is now patchy and is more slush than snow. And it’s cold. In fact it is fucking freezing. It’s the kind of day where any emergency that involves going outdoors can wait.

For the last couple of hours a Collared Dove has been sitting in an apple tree outside my window. I thought he was dead and frozen to the branch but every now and then he’d look around, probably wondering about emigrating. He’s gone now. He has probably gone to slit his wrists, or whatever Collared Doves do when they’ve despaired of life.

Bertie is back. Bertie is our perennial pest [Bertie the Heron – my little Irish pun] who is probably on his ninth or tenth generation but it matters little whether he is a reincarnation or not, he’s just a bit of a pest. He used to fish for goldfish in the lake in the days of old, but I gave up restocking it so he’s reduced now to fishing for tadpoles and frogs. I used to set Sandy on him, and it was a toss up whether she’d get to him before he flew off. She was damned fast but he always won. Penny couldn’t give a shit and shows no interest in him whatsoever.

The Collared Dove is back in the apple tree. He must have just nipped off for some Prozac.

I wouldn’t blame him.