I am guessing that I have had nothing to say over the last couple of months, nothing of note anyway. Writing doesn’t come easily to me, a scant surface of words can flow relatively well but words with meaning are rare. Therefore a journal like blog is what I am resolved to do as no amount of  waiting brings forth pearls of great wisdom,  or volumes of Beckett like brilliance, I will never be like Alan Bennett or even Jeffery Archer, though any position that is significantly opposed to the later is fine by me.

Sometime in early autumn I broke my little petrol lawn mower by believing it invincible and attempting to mow too earnestly through the deep undergrowth. The poor machine was bundled into the boot of the car and carted off to the local mower hospital, new starter motor and blades and several pounds poorer I returned with a brightly buffed Huskervana. As the winter seems to have turned a corner and the ice and snow cleared I am tempted to drag the mower out from its hibernation and clear a few Walnut leaves using its double cutting action. Surely this mild enthusiasm for outdoor activity is, like the emerging Snowdrops, the first signs of spring.