If the answer is ****, what's the question?

A silver sliver of moon is suspended in the early morning sky. A family of rooks fights over the best spot on a gargoyle jutting out from the church tower. Blackbirds skedaddle across a lawn as if they’re on strings.

The mornings are much lighter now, as the daffodils poke their heads out and think about flowering. The spring cycle button has been pushed and it will be March before we know it.

Another month, another week, another day.

Meanwhile, at the Enchanted Village pub quiz, brains are on top form.

The quizmaster asks: ‘What’s the capital of Kuwait?’

The village news correspondent shouts out: ‘K!’

After the laughter subsides, the quizmaster moves on. ‘What’s the name for a group of beavers?’ he says.

Mr Grigg has that look on his face, that smutty, naughty schoolboy grin. He opens his mouth, he's about to say something. I deliver a well-aimed kick under the table.

‘Don’t even think about it,’ I snarl, rather too loudly.

‘You’re going to write that on your computer of yours, now, aren’t you?’ the quizmaster says. This blog is the worst-kept secret in The Enchanted Village.

That’s about it.

Love Maddie x