The world from my window

I have lots to blog about, but also lots to do, with three 4,000-word essays to write in the next four weeks plus some other university-related tasks that have to be done at the same time. Oh, the joys of being a full-time MA classics and ancient history student when I also have a part-time job. However, that’s my choice, so no feeling sorry for myself here. There’s work to be done. I am grateful, therefore, to Barbara, at the March House Books Blog , for, firstly, giving me an award and, secondly, for making me slow down and think about myself. I’m not usually one for these ‘meme’ things, but sometimes they can make you look at yourself in a slightly different way. The requirements of receiving the Lovely Blog Award are: 1. To thank the giver and link back to his or her site. 2. Provide five random facts that folks may not know about you. 3. Pass this award on to five other lovely blog sites and let them know you're awarding them. 4. Copy the award logo and p...

It’s been a grey old day here in The Enchanted Village. When I passed the BBC World Service transmitting station this morning, there was so much mist swirling around, the tops of the masts blended in with the sky. I felt like scrambling to the summit of one of them and stepping off into the clouds in search of the Giant’s golden eggs. The weather is much milder now, there is soft mud in the gateways and spring bulbs are creeping onwards and upwards before our eyes. Soon, a new season will be upon us, and tete a tete narcissi will be having animated conversations outside the Grigg abode. They’ll be joined later by Queen of Night tulips and sweet-smelling wallflowers. Before then, though, in March, it’ll be Pancake Day, the clocks will go forward and Mr St John will be wearing shorts. We’ll be planning a mad hatters’ tea party for the Royal Wedding (any excuse for a knees-up) at the end of April and a fete in June with the theme of carnival (expect Mr Grigg in skimpy Rio outfit and lots ...

The world from my window this morning is bright and cheerful. May is absolutely the best month, with the lime green leaves of trees on the village green and the gypsy lace, pink campions, bluebells and yellow dead nettles along the banks of the lanes. The fields are full of buttercups, dandelion clocks, cuckoo flowers and speedwell. There are wallflowers in pots outside my front door, a huge sign on the playground fence advertising a fete tomorrow (complete with snail racing and paintballing) and the remains of some tulips next to the village pump. The latter is due for another twee revamp in the shape of concrete containers filled with bedding plants, courtesy of a villager who thinks it makes the square look nice. Please God don't let her put bizzy lizzies there again. I can't abide them. Begonias make my flesh creep. The tree pollen causes me to sneeze, as does the dust created by Mr Grigg as he puts the finishing touches to our front room, now that the builder (with shirt...

The village has been full of shiny, happy people this weekend as the sun beat down on walkers, gardeners and people just going to and from the shop. My wallflowers are just about to come out, although obscured by orange brick dust created by builder (with shirt on). Yesterday, Mr Grigg, still bathing in the glow of organising a very successful work-related event on Friday, used his bartering skills to great effect, swapping stone for bricks with Packman. The latter's garden is taken over by long-haired guinea pigs, goats and children's toys, which is just how a family lawn should be. Further down the lane, Mr Sheepwash was digging out the foundations for a hen house and run. As Mr Grigg and I wandered down with a bucket to get some tadpoles from the pond, we saw Mr Sheepwash through the trees, digging furiously with his shirt off and listening to his iPod. He spotted us, sucked in his stomach and quickly put his shirt back on. Pelly says I can keep two hens on their patch of gr...