The eagle-eyed among you will have spotted a blurry patch of pink through the rain spattered window on Monday's post.
In that picture it might have been difficult to identify the patch as a cluster of autumn crocuses, but now the rain has stopped, I am happy to pose in front of said cluster, both me and the flowers in sharper focus.
Buried beneath the stone which sits amid the crocuses are the ashes of my predecessor Hamish the Westie. Gail tells me he loved to sit right here, often to the detriment of the crocus blooms...
It was twenty-one years ago this week that Hamish came to live with Gail, thus finally fulfilling her long time wish to be a dog owner. Gail tells me how when she phoned Human Granny announcing she'd just adopted a three-year old Westie, HGY responded first with horror and alarm, then later phoned back and apologised saying "Gail, now I understand, you REALLY DID want a dog when you were a child."
