Birds in the Quiet Hampshire Countryside

My Dad lives a peaceful life, so I am spending more time in the garden than anywhere else. This involves pulling up dead things & hoping that there are no bulbs on the end - yes there have been quite a few of those. I quietly chuck them to the back & hope no-one sees. There is an outside chance that later on in the year there will be vast crops of unexpected flowers along the edge of the hedge, but I shall be long gone by then so can leave the birds to take the blame.

Did manage one Tell today - the lovely next door neighbour. I went round there with Dad so that we could Skype Mogue in Ireland. It really was a herding cats event: son - not where he should be but getting in the beers ready for St. Patrick's day festivities; Dad (who incidently is badly deaf) telling me that he is off for his afternoon nap (thought I'd explained, but obviously hadn't quite managed it); lovely next door neighbour out - but hero that he is he had said we could go in any time (once we'd found the key). Finally assembled all players in the right places and - well it was really lovely; Dad was amazed.

Took the dogs for a walk and realized that this is not gong to be the triumphant Mass Declaration to Hampshire that I had envisaged, so I ended up shouting it out to the sky larks (big field, no other dog-walkers, think I got away with it). For the time being, Hampshire shall have to remain somewhat ignorant of Homeopathy for Health in Africa.