385: the burning issue

There’s a lot of fires going on at the moment, thanks to a combination of the insanely hot, dry weather and – well – idiots. We were in a delightful pub up Caerphilly mountain on Friday night when the alerts started to roll in on people’s phones, shattering the relative quiet of happy diners with shrill beeps as the various networks rolled them out. Once we’d all worked out what was going on it became a shared moment of ‘oh ho, there we go again’. For the avoidance of doubt, ours arrived in Welsh and English at the same time.

This is what the live wildfire map of the area looks like at my time of writing:

That’s a lot of fires, gang. We’re just outside Caerphilly and the air is thick with a smoky haze generated by the many fires around us. Four teenage boys were arrested on suspicion of arson quite locally yesterday, accused of starting several fires in the area. The landscape is dry, dry, dry and – as the current prime minister (are we still on Andy Burnham? I forget…) would have it – is a tinderbox.

So, naturally, the news today was dominated by people complaining about the alerts – were they necessary? Why were they in Welsh first when not everyone speaks Welsh? Why didn’t they go as far as telling people about the danger of broken glass? (admittedly this one was an outlier on the outrage scale).

Why was this important enough to use the national alert system, despite the fact that it had been requested by the severely overworked emergency services, who are already being supplemented by the military in some areas because they are swamped. Houses have been burned. Swathes of the countryside have been razed. People have been made homeless. We are low on water, which is pretty damned important for putting the fires out.

Many people are already looking at the landscape and thinking how dry it is, and how barbecues might be a bit unwise. Others might think, as a result of the alert, that maybe they won’t have that teeny firework display tonight even if it is little Chardonnay’s first birthday because, you know, fire.

Others – like the absolute bloody idiot we were driving behind today – are still flicking their fag ends out of the truck window. Given their business phone number painted on the side was a mobile, I assume they received the alert last night like everyone else.

And that, my friends, is why we needed the warning.

Things making me happy this week:

Watching the eclipse with Miriam and the kids as mine weren’t interested. We are not very good with colanders.

97 people of various sizes attending our family activities on Wednesday despite the heat – this week we read Rod Campbell’s Dear Zoo and made up their own prospective pets to send back. The snail who was too slimy, the penguin who was too slippery and the hedgehog who was too spiky were my favourites. Wednesdays are my favourite days
Ricky Gervais’s After Life which I watched in full this week. I’m not a fan of the man but this is amazing.
Starting the shawl I decided I needed to make last week

We’re also looking forward to a couple of slightly cooler days, if not to the rain we so desperately need. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m off to shake my fist at the clouds and do a rain dance.

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

The Modern Fairies – Clare Pollard

The Witch’s Stone – Kirsty Ferry

Curious Physiologies – Jay Neill

Made in Scotland – Billy Connolly

A Court of Wings and Ruin – Sarah J. Maas (Audible)

384: nomad

Regular readers (hellooo!) will recall that earlier this year I made the decision to end my relationship with the father of the Things. 22 years together meant that there’s a lot to untangle and that this would happen slowly – affordable accommodation is in short supply these days, and even more so outside London. We’re amicable, at least, and still working on the new world order with the kids as my priority. It’s not easy though.

I’m too old to consider a room in a shared house, and wherever I go there needs to be space for my small (ha!) people. I’m filling in time at the moment with a lot of housesitting while people are away on their holidays or staying up a mountain in Wales for a few days every month.

This does mean that some nights when I’m home I sleep on a blow up bed in the front room, or if A is away at his girlfriend’s I get the bed. For the last week I’ve been over at Miriam’s dog-sitting which is close enough to come home for dinner which has been good. A brought his girlfriend home for dinner a couple of evenings this week and while I was welcome to join them that just felt a bit…weird.

Since Covid I’ve been hot-desking at work as nowhere these days has enough space for people to have their ‘own’ desk like in the the old days, and I find this stressful enough – I like to be able to arrange my things in my own way, to leave my tasks for the next day ready to pick up when I get in, to have photos and things that make a space feel homey as – after all – we still spend a lot of time in our offices. There have been studies that show hot desking creates added stress at work – not knowing where you’ll be able to sit, loss of familiarity in the workplace, sensory overload if you’re near the window/door/radiator, lack of control of your environment. I usually get in very early to work so can choose where to sit, but right now my whole life feels like I’m hot-desking, with all that goes with it. Of course hotdesking can also help you get to know new people in your organisation – but we’re a tiny organisation and the people I don’t know well don’t use the offsite office.

In an ideal world I’d have a set working pattern of three consecutive office days and could work around that in terms of lodging somewhere more affordable but the sector I’m in doesn’t really lend itself to that – I do work the odd weekend and love interacting with the public on those days. So, the solution isn’t immediate but I’m working on it…until then I’ll just make like the Littlest Hobo….

Things making me happy this week:

Reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar and making wiggly caterpillars in the Little Owls session this week
Dinner with Amanda at Flat Iron on Wednesday, followed by a walk round Granary Square as we ate our ice creams
Random sunflower in the borage field

Catch-up with Miriam and Roy on their return from Scotland, including reducing their smaller daughter to hysteria with our rendition of Garth doing his Foxy Lady dance
Stacking up all the mini guinea pigs. It’s the little things…I think I want to make a shawl now though
International Cat Day – insta filled with cats

What I’ve been reading:

The Rainshadow Orphans – Naomi Ishiguro

The Woman in the Seal Skin – Lauren Keegan

A Court of Mist and Fury/A Court of Wings and Ruin – Sarah J. Maas (Audible)

383: weather continues…

…hot. Weather continues hot, with all that entails: men thinking it’s appropriate to go shirtless on the Underground, for example. For the avoidance of doubt, it isn’t, and no one wants to see those tattoos. The annual competition for the hottest underground line. Co-ops all over the country decorated with ‘this fridge is broken’ signs. Airconditioning units sold out. Dust and pollution replacing pollen in the noses of everyone in the city. The daily checking of BBC Weather (other apps are available) chasing the rain which is always just a few more days away. Online articles with top tips on how to beat the heat, at varying costs depending on which paper is currently clickbaiting you.

So, in the spirit of the season, here are my top tips for not going completely mad in the ongoing heatwave:

Lucozade Ice Kick on the train to hydrate. Two for £3 in the co-op at Farringdon (their fridges are working) bought just before you get on the train
Keep a stash of water bottles in your freezer. Not to drink, but to wrap in tea towels and take to bed at night.
Calippos. At least one a day, orange for preference but strawberry is nice too.
Carry an old fashioned fan and while away your horrible journey imagining you’re in Bridgerton. These are apparently very big on the fashion show front rows at the moment. This may be the only time I’ve been ahead of the trend, as I’ve had them in my handbag for years
Water sprays and an electric fan at night. Spray yourself, not the fan. This is important.
Consider alternative routes home if the tube is rammed. Think of it as an adventure. The overground lines are airconditioned.
Think seriously about moving to a polar region.
Cool showers before bed, but not cold.
Soak a tea towel in cold water and drape it round your neck (or over your entire body, but you’d need a bigger towel) and lie in a dark room. Science, apparently. Evaporation. Whatever.
Try not to touch a single other person with any part of your body.
Glare intensely at anyone who suggests holding meetings outside.
Listen to summer music and put ice in everything

Good luck!

Things making me happy this week

Crocheting ridiculous things – floppy cats and guinea pigs in varying sizes. Chenille yarn is so squishy.

Finally getting to deliver the Little Owls storytime at work – The Tiger Who Came to Tea this week – and planning next week’s activity
Walking through the fields with a very well-behaved Dobby, who didn’t bark at anything for a change
Not the local bus services
A solo mooch round Brentwood on Monday, trawling the charity shops
Helping Thing 2 apply for apprenticeships
Rewatching The Commitments and introducing Thing 2 to this gem, after the sad loss of Glen Hansard this week (and Sam Neill and Bill Oddie in July as well – enough, 2026, enough!). Go and watch Once if you haven’t seen it again…

What I’ve been reading

Everything Will Swallow You – Tom Cox

The Rainshadow Orphans – Naomi Ishiguro

The Woman in the Seal Skin – Lauren Keegan

A Court of Mist and Fury – Sarah J. Maas (Audible)

332: busy doing nothing

A minimalist post this week as I have spent it doing and thinking as little as possible, and quite honestly it’s been blissful.

Things making me happy this week

Coffee and a catch up with the girl cousin gang in Caerphilly
Schitt’s Creek – how have I only just discovered this?
New crochet project while watching the above
Lie-ins and lazy evenings
Reading and choosing not to carry on with books I’m not enjoying

Back to work on Tuesday….summer holiday activity time!

Kirsty xx

What I’ve been reading:

The Satsuma Complex – Bob Mortimer

Everything Will Swallow You – Tom Cox

331: delete, file, reply, repeat

It’s Saturday night and I’ve spent the day in the office, supporting a comics workshop in our creative studio. I like working the odd Saturday – it means I get to see some of the welcomers and volunteers who aren’t always working in the week.

Crucially, as I wasn’t in the workshops, I got to spend some time swimming in the depths of my inbox. You may remember that June was a bit of a write-off workwise and May was a tad hectic while we got ready to open. Emails were flooding in the whole time and I wasn’t able to tackle them with my usual aplomb.

A previous director, when I left the organisation, said that he’d miss me as he knew that if something got handed to me he knew it would get done quickly and efficiently. Oh, how times change…right now my inbox is in triple figures and I’m constantly worried I’m going to miss something important. People won’t get paid as i haven’t coded and forwarded their invoice. One of my tutors will send me a materials list and I won’t see it. I’ll miss a meeting. It’s stressful, and what seems to happen on a regular basis is that I’ll reply to an email and then they’ll send me another one! It’s never ending!

I’m off this week on actual leave and wanted to feel as if there wouldn’t be anything crucial waiting to bite me when I got back. The trouble with being injured but not ill as such is that you have guilt about not working, especially when it’s a busy period, so you stress out and it’s hard to give yourself space to relax* and recover even when you can only see out of one eye.

So today – no meetings – was a great chance to also wrestle the inbox into submission. I deleted, I went for the quick wins, filed the things I’d already dealt with and generally felt a lot better about the whole thing. Now how do I do this for the rest of my life?

*unlike Teddy in this week’s cover image. He has no trouble giving himself space to relax as you can see.

Other things making me happy this week:

Gail’s cinnamon buns
Cooler weather today
Thing 1 turning 20 – how did that happen?
Tiny crochet guinea pig

Next week I’ll be coming live from a mountain in Wales…

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Jade City – Fonda Lee

Crazy as a Loon/Dead as a Dodo/fFree as a Bird – Hailey Edwards

The Art of a Lie – Laura Shepherd-Robinson

A Court of Thorns and Roses – Sarah J. Maas (Audible)

330 and a half: World Cup Semi-final Bingo (En-ger-land edition)

Need something to keep you engaged in the last couple of rounds? Want an excuse to reward yourself for sitting through the entire tournament? For your entertainment and edification (but not edutainment. No.) here’s a fun game for all the family to enjoy. Your very own cut-out-n-keep semi-finals bingo game!

Get a whole line? Reward yourself with a nice cup of tea and a biscuit, though not chocolate in this heat.

Full card? Break out the prosecco. You have earned it. Maybe with a few Walkers Bangers & Mash crisps. /

330: striking Vikings, Kaneary Wharf and other World Cup stuff

This week – apart from binging Elle, the ‘prequel’ series to Legally Blonde, I have mostly been watching football. This is a worrying development and builds on the week or so I spent watching the snooker in May. I like watching snooker, it’s like ASMR but with a winner. The commentators are so calm and quiet, the click of the cue ball against whatever the other colour is is short and sharp, and the audience (you can’t really call them a crowd) get ssssshed if they get overexcited. When I confessed this in the office, it turned out there were a fair few others watching it for the same reason. Honestly, you’d think we were all a little tightly wound in May or something.

Football, especially any World Cup game involving Latin/South American teams like Mexico or Paraguay, cannot be described as relaxing under any circumstances. Horns, drums, shouting, music – and that was just outside the England team’s hotel the night before. I didn’t see this game as I was sensibly fast asleep but I’ve been assured the second half was spectacular, notably for England winning despite only having ten men, for Jordan Henderson getting a yellow card without even going on the pitch, and then for breaking his arm falling over an advertising hoarding. As I write this I’m hoping to stay up for the England vs Norway game but kick-off is after 9pm so maybe not…I did have a nap earlier and am currently quite conscious so the signs are good.

I used to go regularly to club games featuring West Ham, but the international aspects of the so-called ‘Beautiful Game’ have passed me by. I didn’t even know Wales had a football team until I went to live in England as I was brought up in a staunchly rugby watching household. The Mitchell & Webb and IT Crowd sketches embedded in this post pretty much summed me up. For some while I worked part time in a West Bromwich Albion pub in Hackney and at that point could explain the offside rule with the aid of two highball glasses and a lemon but those days are long gone.

I was also scarred somewhat on the international front by the 1996 Euros game where England lost to Germany on penalties – the one Gareth Southgate* missed, bless him – which happened to be on my birthday. The angry English people watching the game – teacher training students. in a lot of cases – turning round and screaming ‘go home’ at the foreign students was ugly, to say the least. Especially as we were at uni in Wales at the time.

This World Cup, however, is proving entertaining although probably for the wrong reasons. The involvement of the Orange Basketcase in getting Balogun-the-American player’s suspension suspended, leading the Belgian manager to say he ‘didn’t know July 5th was April 1st in America’ as well as to UEFA being all self-righteous, and to England appealing against one of their player’s bans (unsuccessfully). Ronaldo was also allowed to play in the tournament under a similar rule, despite a three-match ban with two games left to serve, but I think this may be more to do with time off for good behaviour rather than interference by the Portuguese government. Infantino, the head of FIFA, is also the idiot who invented a ‘peace prize’ to award to Mr Sore Loser. Some countries who backed his presidency are now allegedly withdrawing their support. In the bad old 70s and 80s it was violent fans bringing the game into disrepute, occasionally the players in the nineties – it’s coming to something when it’s the head of the international game.

There has also been some extremely questionable refereeing – the France vs Paraguay game being a case in point, where poor Mbappe was being harassed throughout by the opposition, people diving were rolling over three times in outrageously dramatic ways, and the ref was unable, apparently, to see any of it. France won it on a penalty, which served the Paraguayans right quite frankly.

The so-called hydration breaks (a lot of advertising and additional time for managers to talk to players) even in indoor stadiums have added a lot of time onto games – as has all the extra time and penalties which can make games last ~~forever~~ more than two hours and delay my bedtime. The extra round of 48 teams at the start of the tournament has provided some excitement (and a lot of extra time) with close calls caused by teams like Cape Verde and Curacao for example.

The commentators are a good mix of men, women and Roy Keane’s beard which made him look quite grandfatherly but he shaved it off midweek. I like the technical explanations from the ex-US women’s coach, a full on Essex girl who started with chalk until they let her play with the computer. Why are they broadcasting from what looks like a breakfast TV set though?

Women commentators really annoy some men which is an added bonus, especially since the women’s team have arguably brought football home much more recently and reliably than the men’s. That’s something else that gets right on my nerves – the constant banging on about 1966. I mean, good lord people – sixty years! David Baddiel’s ‘thirty years of hurt’ is now twice that and they still won’t shut up. I’m not sure what they’d do if they actually won it, of course – what would they go on about then?

Right, it’s 9.20pm and the build-up to the game is starting. I’d better find some snacks and a drink and phone the friend who explains it all to me…

Gareth Southgate being a thoroughly nice chap in a waistcoat

*I have a lot of time for Gareth Southgate, of course, and have supported him and his waistcoats through several tournaments. He strikes me as an extremely sensible chap who’s still doing a lot for young men. His empathy towards his players and his gentlemanly behaviour is much better than, for example, the coach I saw getting yellow carded by the ref in a game this week.

Things making me happy this week:

Seeing schools enjoying the Centre at last – they’ve been in, I haven’t, just to be clear
This in turn meant I got to hug Chris Bailey and congratulate him on his wedding earlier in the week
House sitting in Buckhurst Hill meaning I could commute on the airconditioned Weaver Line, at least until it broke
A Wowcher offer – a 60 minute sports massage in airconditioned splendour near Liverpool St
Hackney Gelato Banana Caramel and Pecan flavour ice cream
Plotting the Little Owls story and craft session this week. I’ll be reading Judith Kerr’s The Tiger Who Came To Tea and we’ll be making tiger masks
The whole Clacton by-election farce. Count Binface for the win, please.

Same time next week, by which time I think it might actually be all over.

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading

Fathomfolk/Tideborn – Eliza Chan

The Pixie in the Pickle Jar/The Ghost in the Pole Barn – Hailey Edwards

River of Light – Violet Fenn

Letters from the Last Apothecary – Bita Behzadi

329: looking up

Honestly, gang, the second half of 2026 needs to pull its socks up and do a damn sight better than the first, as none of the stuff in the past six months was on my life bingo card back in January. However, things will hopefully start looking up even if I still can’t….

Last Sunday’s operation was a success, the lovely consultant and her assistant informed me, and my eye is looking better already. I have to take their word for it as almost a week later I’m still viewing the world through a haze of swelling, bruising and ointment. It’s starting to feel less painful though I’m continuing to wear large sunglasses in public and my eyebrow is oddly quirked in a way I could never manage on purpose. Crossing roads is dangerous as I have no peripheral vision on my right side and turning my head too far causes double vision. Going anywhere – even over the road to Miriam’s or on Friday making my way to Rhiannon’s to house-sit (all of 40 minutes) is exhausting.

I was also reassured (but not remotely surprised as I know what causes this sort of thing) to be told my pregnancy test (mandatory) was negative. I think I was reassured when everyone kept asking me what operation I was in for and then drew an arrow pointing to my right eye. I tried saying ‘leg amputation’ once just to see what the reaction was….she did at least double check my notes…

The team at the hospital were lovely and looked after me really well apart from all the shining of lights in my eyes and poking me with the odd needle which was apparently necessary. There were no beds available in the hospital (again) so I got to spend all my time in recovery rather than on a ward. It was…interesting. The lovely team kept me full of tea and biscuits, and I even got to choose my lunch from the restaurant (venison stew or burgers!), but it also meant no visitors.

This rule did not seem to apply to the family of the young man who had flipped his car on the M11 roundabout on Sunday morning, who finally appeared from surgery at about 9pm. At that point about a dozen poeple arrived all claiming to be his immediate family, ignoring the nurses when they tried to say that only his parents were allowed in, and letting each other in and out in groups of three and four. I was impressed by his auntie’s fervent and extensive prayers, less so by his girlfriend’s noisy shoes, the ones who were on their way to Stansted and dropped in as it was on the way, and by the raucous party they appeared to be holding in the waiting room until 11pm. Eventually – having been told once too often by the family that the nurses ‘got no right to stop us going in, we’re family’ – the nurses phoned security at which the ‘family’ were all outraged innocence and ‘but whyyyy, we ain’t done nothing wrong’. Eventually they moved the poor lad to a ward. I dread to think what would have happened if noisy shoe girlfriend had heard about the other ‘girlfriend’ who’d been in the car with him when he flipped it.

The other drama was the poor chap who’d had his appendix removed and on waking up and being asked if he knew where he was replied ‘Of course I do! I’m in a SHAM ward in a SHAM hospital and YOU’RE TRYING TO STEAL MY ORGANS’. The poor nurse explained that no, he’d had his appendix out and was in recovery, he’d just woken up from his anaesthetic. A few moments later as they gave him something or other…’NOW YOU’RE GIVING ME ILLEGAL DRUGS! PHONE THE POLICE!’ in tones of absolute outrage. Honestly, it quite took the edge off my fentanyl buzz.

Still, the lovely team were great – so patient taking care of a whole lot of people, protecting their few beds from marauding ED managers and tolerating all sorts of weird reactions from anaesthetics. I’m glad I took my earplugs though…

Hopefully later this week I’ll be feeling up to going into the office even if I keep my giant sunnies on….

Things making me happy this week

Lovely friends looking after me
Dinner with London sister and brother in law and two of the Things
Hackney Gelato Banana Caramel & Pecan ice cream
Spoiling myself with a pedicure (thanks to family for the guilt free birthday treat!)
Long phone conversations – going old school but with unlimited minutes

And that’s it from me for the week – hopefully next week I’ll be less lopsided and able to do more things.

What I’ve been reading

Jump/Mount/Tackle – Jilly Cooper. All of these are supposed to have exclamation marks in the titles but I! Just! Can’t! (A Jilly question – why do all working class characters have broad cockney accents even the darkest depths of badly-concealed Gloucestershire?)

The Antiquarian’s Object of Desire – India Hilton

Fathomfolk – Eliza Chan

328: all join in

Yesterday was our first family event at the Centre, called All Join In after one of our founder’s books. I feel quite relaxed about the whole thing now it’s over but there were definitely a few moments this week when I was worried it wasn’t going to happen! As regular readers will recall, I’ve been off work for a few weeks post accident and all the planning time I’d blocked out had to be compacted into five days.

However – thanks to an awesome Centre team, willing volunteers and local groups, and our amazing illustrators it ended up being a lovely day.

The weather was hot but not as unbearable as midweek, the rain didn’t rain, and we were able to put up our gazebos in such a way that we were all mostly in the shade.

There were six activities for families to do, which felt bustly but manageable and the right number of people turned up – no queues but all the activities had a steady stream of people.

Such Stories, aka illustrator Laura Carlin and space designer Jo Briggs, had a dual role: not only were they helping families make a patchwork River of Wishes, they were also introducing our gorgeous new public sculpture Chip. Chip is the horse that carried a city, created with local families and schools, and he has a wishing star in his hoof that rings a bell when you press it.

MURUGIAH, who has his first solo show in our Engine House at the moment, was on hand to help families make flower faces inspired by his illustrations – we used paper plates and die cut circles to make 3D pieces for the wall.

Centre 404 and their volunteers added to a wishing tree (there’s a theme here!) while Clerkenwell Pollinator Path project made basking pebbles for bees, bee hotels and hoverfly hydration stations. They’ve also installed a bee hotel on site this week and will be making a bee bank for ground nesting varieties next week. The garden has only been in the ground six weeks and we already have 13 sorts of bee, several butterflies and dragonflies.

Our lovely gardener Zoe – wanting to save some of our hundreds of plant pots from landfill – designed portable pollinator patches with nasturtium seeds. These last two activities were by far the most popular.

Last – but not least – James and Eva of Play Build Play CIC tested ideas that will become our loose parts kit. Long term readers will recall previous adventures at Young V&A with loose parts, and I can’t wait to get it onsite. Kids were loving building aqueducts and pools inspired by the New River.

I enlisted Things 2 and 3 as volunteers, making them get out of bed ridiculously early on a non school day by promising them a Nando’s dinner… Seemed to work!

Things making me happy this week

A crochet get well flower and heart from Iona in Scotland, which I found when I got home on Monday after being told I had to have an operation to repair my eye socket. That’s today, by the way, think positive thoughts for me!
Being back at work, albeit briefly – they’re a lovely bunch of people.
Not getting on the tube on Thursday. That made me very happy indeed.
New hair by Jasmine over the road
Gorgeous bee earrings for my birthday made by And Mary, to match my necklace. https://www.andmary.com/
A beautiful lemon drizzle cake made by Thing 2 for my birthday, and cheerful flowers from Thing 1 and her girlfriend.

That’s it from me – same time next week then, gang?

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

A Court of Thorn and Roses/A Court of Mist and Fury – Sarah J. Maas (Audible)

Wicked/Jump – Jilly Cooper

327: for the birds

This week, up the mountain in Caerphilly, I have been taking great delight in watching (and hearing) a huge crowd of jackdaws swooping and diving every evening before they dive into a nearby tree and settle down for the night.

Starling murmurations are spectacular – when I was at university in Aberystwyth we used to sit in the bar on the pier and watch the thousands of birds coming in for the night, doing their aerobatics over the sea and then suddenly dropping out of the sky and vanishing.

These jackdaw flights look for all the world like a starling murmuration but Google tells me that this is actually known as a ‘clattering’. It also tells me that jackdaws are democratic in their roosting habits: some will start to squawk when they’re ready to get up in the morning and then when the noise reaches a majority pitch they all fly the roost. I guess it’s the same in the evenings, as from about 5pm they’ll start flying back and lining the ridges of the neighbours’ roofs, and when enough of them fly in the clattering begins. It really is a clattering – the noise is immense. Occasionally they’ll have a practice clatter in the afternoon and then all fly off again to do what jackdaws do – chiefly terrorising seagulls and demolishing the cherry tree next door, I think.

There are some examples on YouTube of these clatterings – I keep trying to capture it but my phone doesn’t do it justice.

I’ve written before about my fondness for the magpie family that lives in my Essex garden, which produces a noisy brood every year who run their poor mother literally ragged chasing her about after they’ve fledged. I like corvids in general (before anyone points it out – I know starlings aren’t in this family!. One year we had a little gang of them visiting the garden every day, comprising Richmond the Rook in his fluffy trousers, a pair of jackdaws and a few of the magpies. They were great fun, mastering the bird feeders together and working out how to get at the peanuts through teamwork.

I saw a raven eating a sausage roll from a Greggs bag in Clerkenwell once – huge thing, and I didn’t like to think about what had happened to the original purchaser of the sausagey treat. If the raven had come asking for my pastry snack I’d have handed it over, no questions asked.

Rooks are noisy and chatty and playful, and I always feel a bit sorry for the ones banished from the rookeries . What have they done that they have to go and find their own tree? There’s a large rookery near the church in North Weald, and it’s so loud when you walk past that it drowns out whatever I’m listening to.

Crows, on the other hand, stomp about the place looking slightly menacing, and at harvest time for all the world like they’ve been planted in flocks in the fields.

This week I’ll be back up in London, looking forward to getting back to work and getting ready for the family festival on Saturday. I’m not looking forward to my inbox though…

Also – happy Father’s Day to my excellent and well balanced dad, without whose sage advice my sisters wouldn’t be the functional, sane adults that we are today. Well done Dad…

Same time next week…

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

The Man Who Made Husbands Jealous/Appassionata/Score!/Pandora – Jilly Cooper