We three were in the garden.  We cleared the vegetable patch a little.  When I say ‘we three’ really I mean that the lovely Sharon did most of the clearing while I occasionally popped out of the woodshed to deliver encouragement.  And the little man sat in his pram and dribbled while occasionally delivering encouraging squeaks and giggles.  It was not even the three of us, it was five. The cats were constantly nearby and Tillie sat below the pram and seemed to constantly be meowing at the little man.  Not threatening meows or even fearful meows, just contented little mewwws that felt like she was trying to connect with him.

I found all the leaks in the woodshed.  I hack-sawed foot long sections out and patched them with lengths of, now expensive, copper pipe.  On one section I fitted a plastic valve that was supposedly for plastic and copper pipe.  I should have followed my instinct which was to suspect the worst of a fitting that could only be hand tightened with no option for a spanner.  When I had all the water pressure back up to full and I was fitting the lagging; my hand momentarily touched the plastic valve which exploded near instantaneously.  I never paused to look at the water spraying everywhere, as I leaped away and ran for the stopcock in the garage.  The hacksaw was drawn once again and the plastic valve was condemned to the dark corners of the toolbox.

The garden is a massive undertaking that we can only work at a little at a time.  The running water is required before I even think about setting up the watering system for the greenhouse.  The vegetable patches need cleared so we can begin to think about what we will fill it with.  There were many surprises though; the smell of the onions and garlic and scallions.  Along with the discovery of un-harvested carrots and parsnips and Jerusalem artichokes.  Just as we decided to finish for the day we spotted something different under the trees.  At the bases of the naked branches were the first of the spring flowers to tell us that the sun and warmth will return; delicate snowdrops.  And when we spotted one bunch we began to spot them all and we were perplexed that we did not see them before.