Trees in a puddle

Walking over the military land at Frimley again, we found ourselves in the middle of a fire fight. Pippa, our Jack Russell, behaved really well and didn't shy away from the gunfire. It's very odd to be walking through a military exercise. Stranger still when the soldiers, as they must, behave as if you're not there.

I've just begun reading Jeanette Winterson's first book, Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit, after watching Alan Yentob's documentary on her last night. What a great book. I'm feeling a little guilty that I've never read her work until now. I suspect most of you will know her well. If you didn't see the documentary I can recommend it. There is a scene at the end where she goes to her adoptive mother's grave for the first time and takes some flowers from a nearby grave to put on her mother's. I'm not defending this mild desecration - if that's what we should call it - but it seemed full of meaning, as if she was saying: "I think something of you, but not a lot." Maybe that's a mistaken interpretation.

It's a sign of how sensitive the BBC has become that in the credits there was a note saying the flowers were replaced immediately after the scene had been shot. The scene was too provocative to leave out but clearly scary for the producer. I wonder if that's why they screened the programme so late? Sorry about my lack of commenting, will try to get around in the next day or two.

As the snow falls the Jeep is stuck at the garage. A new window winder was going to cost more than £180. With labour that's probably more than the car's worth! Found one on EBAY for £90, hope it fits and hope it arrives before the weekend. We need the four wheel drive.

There were quite a few puddles about and a smattering of snow in places. I liked this reflection. Since posting it, I've warmed to this one of a woman with her dogs, but I don't like to change my blip once it's up.