Down and dirty

After a trip to the garden centre to buy bags of brown stuff (compost) - and treating myself to 3 of my favourite dahlia bulbs: Bishop of Llandaff - I spent the afternoon on my hands and knees fiddling with the garden in pretty horrid weather.

I was wearing a t-shirt, a jumper, a cardigan, a fleece, a coat, a scarf, gloves, 2 pairs of socks, and I was still cold.

I planted out broccoli, and then protected it with cloches and netting, fiddled with the cabbages I'd planted a couple of weeks ago, and then put some spring flowering plants in the ground. I watered everything with nematodes and plant food, checked on the potatoes and onions that are still hiding underground - they're still alive, and I tended to the rows of lettuce I planted out yesterday.

I'm so disappointed with the weather - it's chilled me to the bone and, 3 hours after coming inside, I still haven't warmed up.

After I came in, a long-tailed tit sat on the outside door handle and looked at me. I know it was probably looking at its own reflection but we were just inches apart and I had about 3 seconds feeling very special and very lucky. I couldn't help feeling sad and worried, though, that it was alone. Long-tailed tits usually go around in a little gang - not on their own.

Tess said to me yesterday: "You're very sweet about birds and butterflies and bees... " - which I thought was lovely, but then she went on to say: "...but you don't notice those things when you're cross."

Note to self: Notice birds, bees and butterflies instead of being cross.

Joel has gone to spend a week in a local christian outdoor centre - to combine GCSE revision and activities. We're not christians but we know the people who run the place and we think he's in safe hands :)

I've put extra mealworms and suet pellets out for the birds tonight because it's so blinking cold, and I can hear the nests are active.