SPRING

The third sunny day in a row. Maybe the "old crow" of winter is getting ready to fly off. Hope so. However, I won't feel that Spring really is on the way until I see my first snowdrop or crocus.

When I was in primary school (a million years ago) the teacher used to put a Hyacinth bulb in a clear glass vase of a shape which would let the bulb itself be held while letting its roots be dipped in the water below. Round about this time of the year - perhaps a bit later - she'd proudly take the vase out of the cupboard and show us how the roots had grown and forged downward in search of water. To this day I can never arrive at Spring without remembering that moment and thinking that Winter had really gone.


Donkey work to-day, committing a bit more of my comic novella to blogform. It's still a work in progress and will change. Feeling a bit naked about it at the moment. Am also working on a screenplay and a children's story about which more later.


Much in the media at the moment about Gordon Brown, the prime minister's, tears for his dead baby. I don't doubt the depth of his suffering but it is very suspicious that we are hearing all this so soon before the election. It sounds like the crassest of P.R. ploys to show that he is human after all. Normally, I would give him the benefit of the doubt but he has broken so many promises (referendum on the Lisbon Treaty not least among them) and shown such utter contempt for the Democratic process that I don't feel like giving him the benefit of the doubt.


Watching Labour trying to hang onto power reminds me of the sound of nails being dragged down one of those old fashioned school blackboards.