B is up to his elbows in the drains. Mental note to self. Buy some drain covers to keep the leaves from clagging them up. There are two trees down in the garden, one of which in quite big, actually, and just missed the conservatory on it's way over. And the trampoline is in the magnolia.
I'm hoping that's that for the foreseeable future. I'm thoroughly sick of it now - the ground is so clagged with water that there's simply nowhere for it to go. The livestock are all humpity-backed and miserable; the chickens' feet are so muddy that the eggs are disgusting, however regularly you pick them up; and there are six panes of glass out of the greenhouse that I want to put back in before I plant anything.
We are not anywhere as badly off as a lot of people; but I won't be sorry to see the back of winter and get on with spring. The snowdrops are coming through and the wild garlic will be here soon, which is always a turning point in my head. Spring isn't heralded by the song of the Thrush and the chipping of little chicks; it's announced by a duck egg and wild garlic omlet.
Last weekend, I had to cancel a Chicken Keeping course because of the weather; and rescheduled for yesterday. Which was fine in principle, because it was beautifully and sunny. But not so good in practice, because N was admitted to the children's ward on Saturday afternoon with a chest infection. It was all a bit scary, with an ambulance ride from the outskirts of Taunton because she stopped responding to me, her temperature went through the roof; and the traffic tail-back was so horrific we had no other real option. One chest x-ray, some blood tests, Amoxycillin and Ibuprofen later, she was quite a bit brighter and we came home yesterday morning.
As a household, we are still gold-medal winners in the 'Snot' category at the winter olympics; however things are progressing in the right direction and we are settling in to half-term nicely. L is still in his pyjamas and is watching Batman cartoons with great joy. And volume. Whilst teaching N to play Dungeon Keeper on his ipad. B is in the kitchen simultaneously mincing rabbits and cooking a fry-up; and I am attempting to write some fiction.
I am hoping we might have bunny burgers for tea. The mincer on the Kenwood is more than up to the job and it seems a very sensible way to use the meat. The skins went to a friend who is tanning them to make a rabbit-skin cloak. I may have a go at it myself when we do the next batch (in four or five months).
For today, that's all I think. I'm prevaricating, again.