Walkin' round the room singing Stormy Weather

One of the major differences between what I am doing now and my old life in the mobile phone software industry is that I am now much more aware of the weather. Before, the weather just used to make me grumpy whatever it was doing. If it was a nice hot sunny day, I’d think to myself, great, I get to enjoy this for about fifteen minutes as I walk to the train station and the rest of the day I’ll be stuck inside at the office.  If it was raining, I’d grumble that I’d get wet feet. If it was just a bland grey day I’d moan to myself how boring it was. But once I’d vanished within the office, all thought of the weather was gone for the day. 

By The Light Of The Silvery Moon

London has a lot going for it. Really. It’s got all kinds of exciting things to do. You can ice skate outside a building full of prehistoric skeletons, or potter round the City of London wondering at the juxtaposition of ancient churches and soaring new structures. You can eat almost any cuisine known to man, catch the best new plays, listen to several of the world’s finest orchestras (one at a time is best), or sunbathe in one of the beautiful parks that span the centre of the city. It’s packed full of history, culture, entertainment, job opportunities and Boris bikes.  However there is one thing that London is most definitely not great for, and that is star-gazing. 

We all like sheep have gone astray

The hut was dimly but warmly lit and covered in straw. It was getting cooler, the evening light was disappearing. The ewe lay facing away from me, panting, with its hind legs streaked with blood. Its first lamb lay by its head, asleep. Behind the ewe crouched one of the community members, arm deep within it, struggling to gain a grip on the as-yet-unborn lamb which had its legs twisted round, making its safe entry into the wider world unlikely without external assistance. I was witnessing my first lambing.

A blog is for life, not just for Easter

I found myself awake and outdoors at 5:30 this morning standing in the pitch darkness by a bonfire at the entrance to Pilsdon’s church. No, I hadn’t discovered my inner arsonist; I was participating with others in an Easter Sunday sunrise service which also included setting a firework rocket off, playing with sparklers, and then lighting our candles and moving inside the beautiful Norman church for a more conventional sort of worship.

We plough the fields and scatter

For the first time in my life I was actually glad it rained today. This is what being partially responsible for some fledgling vegetables and fruit in Pilsdon’s garden has done to me, having spent hours laboriously hoeing trenches, digging holes, and planting potato sets, onions, cabbages, strawberries, and pea saplings which were born in half a drainpipe in the warmth of the church (it has underfloor heating!).