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.
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