Dydd Gwyl Dewi

Not a daffodil in sight around here. The beast from the east is nothing if not persistent.The flakes aren't thick clusters right now, instead the air is full of tiny motes whizzing in circles, or dropping in veils, confused by a wind that's startled all the birds and frozen the seeds I put out for them. Ugh. This really is appalling. I view it with a sinking feeling, knowing that I can't let my mate down a second time on account of weather. To him, this is nothing, but he doesn't live on the hill. Also, my boots are made of suede. The good news is that if I see him early, I can get away early before the buses groan to a halt in the dark and I have to walk all the way home in this stuff.

Gah. In for a penny, in for a pound I guess; there might be some point in popping to the shops before meeting him to get seeds the birds can eat; there's a last bowlful of the stuff in front of the fire, trying to dry out. Right now the birds look pretty unhappy, though it's interesting that not even blizzard levels of snow can tempt them into my Oxfam hanging bird feeder. It's round with a hole in it, reminiscent of the death star. None of them will humour my joke by being little Skywalkers.

I've been distracted by a friend in trouble. She phoned me four times yesterday, and I'm torn between wanting to be there for her, and really needing to get on with my work. Her distress has been pointed, and going on for a couple of years now; I find it doubly frustrating because what she sees as a mixture of bad luck and bad management is, to my mind, 10% of the first and 90% of the second, and I find it difficult (read I fail) to keep exasperation out of my voice. It's not her fault, and I try to remind myself of that; I am responsible for my concentration levels. Time to find a better balance.

To the man of doves and dragons, Saint David, his followers and his country, may you have a spring all the more bonny for being late. And for everyone else... stay indoors. Again.