There really is small wonder that one of the main topics of conversation among British people is that of the weather, because it really does play tricks on one. Here we are at the end of April and what is it doing up here at six hundred feet asl? It is snowing - about an inch has fallen; not settling for long of course, just that wet, slushy stuff which becomes so depressing.
It has been our monthly Poetry afternoon; nine of us reading out our favourite poetry and it was as enjoyable as ever. I started with Browning's 'Home Thought from Abroad' which I always think is such a sad poem from a poet who was virtually exiled in Italy because he and his wife had eloped. I find it sad too because of the line about the' brushwood sheaf round the elm tree bowl' because of course these days all the elms have gone to Dutch Elm Disease. Now that Ash Die Back has arrived I wonder how long ash trees will remain such a feature of the British landscape.
I was too busy yesterday to manage to put on a post or to read any of your posts, but I have just caught up on almost all of them. So more or less back to normal, whatever that is.