Poached eggs for lunch, collected fresh from John’s chicken-coop this morning. Fabulous.
A glorious spring day. I predict to Jen we’ll see swallows before the weekend is out. I’ve been looking out for them all week. Two hours later, I’m pottering in the garden when I hear twittering overhead. The first swallow of the year, high above our sycamore. One swallow might not make a summer, but it’s joined seconds later by a second. So I guess that makes it official.
More eggs in the evening. The girls are doing us proud.
“…wonderful. Science and history and geography and evolution and culture all tangled up in musings while walking about the moors around Hebden Bridge.”—PZ Myers
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