The world from my window

I was making the rounds of my pelargoniums out on the terrace this morning. For the past few days, there has been the tell-tale sign of cat trying to scrabble in amongst the plants. But now, with plenty of souvlaki skewers sticking up bottomwards and a load of pepper put around the outside, it seems the cats have given the flowers a wide berth. And then, today, deep within the terracotta planter I discovered this. Here, have a closer look. It was nestling in an egg-shaped indentation in the soil between two plants. But there were no visible signs of whatever it was that put it there. No broken stems, no disturbed soil, nothing. Just a big, fat, hard, speckled egg. Mr Grigg put it in water to see if it floated. It didn't. It must be fresh then. Unless it's ceramic. But it doesn't feel like it. It's too big and white to have come from any of the hens next door. And, besides, they've never, ever ventured over the wall. And it's too small ...

The village square is deathly quiet. The red pelargoniums around the village pump are fading now and the white nicotianas outside my house look like long, spidery tendrils and they've given up the ghost. The shop has been closed now for almost three weeks but still cars pull up, drivers get out, try the shop door, then look at their watches, shrug, get back in their cars and drive off again. I've just had an email from a local councillor, pointing me to a Lottery-funded scheme to set up local enterprises. 'I'm sending you this because I hear your Village has closed.' He's missed out a word, but it sure feels like it. And now it's raining. That's about it. Love Maddie x