No.79, Sunday, 22nd. February 2026

A quiet day. A more-or-less uniform off-white sky with no discernible clouds, but clouds there must be because we have rain. Light showers to be precise, interspersed with drizzle. Either way it is damp and the ground remains sodden and marshy, as it has for two months now. The birds are okay; plenty of birds flitting between shrubs and trees, singing as they do so. The fish in the pond are okay, all ten of them; it is the lack of rain that will be upon us in just two or three months that they will not like.

My bungalow is in hedgehog territory, and I was very pleased to see their droppings the other day – the only evidence that they are out and about during the night. I did not see them at all last year, but I am glad to know they are still there.

As for me, I am always to be found in my natural habitat. The Sitting Room. My books, records and CD’s are arranged on shelves around the room. My hi-fi looks impressive but is silent most days. The books and the music represent comfort, a blanket for the mind. I don’t enjoy them as often as I should or would like to, and that is something I feel I must rectify. I just need to figure out how.