Something has helped itself to all the brassica that were sitting in the garage, waiting to be planted out once the threat of frost went away. Julia thinks mice and I think rabbits- but whatever it was has made an astonishingly neat job of it. There stand all the little pots, on the shelf, in their rows, with no sign of any disturbance except that they're now empty- just as if someone had waved a wand at them and made their contents vanish.
The garage was open most of yesterday afternoon because we were waiting for someone to come and collect a mobility scooter we were shifting on Freecycle. That's one of the reasons I suspect rabbits. Beside whoever heard of mice having a yen for cabbage?
We watched The Seven Samurai yesterday evening- and I was thinking "This has to be the greatest western ever made."
The coverage of The Duke of Edinburgh's death has become the latest battlefield in the culture wars- and while I'd like to sit on the sidelines going "Tut, tut, how very unenlightened" I'm finding it hard not to lob in the occasional provocation. As Dag Hammarskjold wrote in his diary for 1956, "On the field where Ormuzd has challenged Ahriman to battle, he who chases the dogs away is wasting his time."