quackLast Saturday was the annual Yarmouth duck race on the Yar.

Whether it had anything to do with that, or the great weather, I don’t know but yesterday morning a Mummy Duck and her brood of seven or eight ducklings were spotted waddling across the bottom of our garden. (I couldn’t count them as they kept falling over and running round in circles.)

To get to us they must have walked at least a mile along a busy(ish) road – and crossed it – so all credit to Mummy Duck for getting them this far.

I have no idea where they were going but I hope it wasn’t too far and that they have all reached wherever it was safely.


February is nearly over, and although I have to say good riddance regarding the weather and the road works in Bouldnor Road blocking easy access to Yarmouth I have to say it has been a good month.

I’ve finished the umpteenth draft of HER PARENTS’ DAUGHTER and am getting happier and happier with it every day. It should be out and about in time for Christmas – one way or another. The future of A SET OF LIES is becoming more settled and should also be available, at least in e-book form in September – in good time for the bi-centenaries coming up next year.

But more importantly the daffodils are out in the garden. And daffodils are increasingly in evidence on people as the Marie Curie Daffodil Appeal gets under way.

Every year I buy three daffodils to add to my collection (one for each dead cat – Solomon, Pachelbel and Beaver) and attach them either to my scarf or to my multi-coloured woolly hat. The hat always brings a smile in the middle of winter – it even made the papers in Ludlow five or six years ago.

Buy yours. Marie Curie is such a good cause. “Wear your daffodil with hope.”