Kizzie has a very good friend called James. James has been studying at University for his degree and as he was explaining to us recently, has had to write a story that is 8000 words long.
​But the very exciting bit about this story is that he wrote about us! Kizzie had to steady the camera and tripod and film us in groups of three, whilst James observed. Hollywood here we come! Of course some of us took to centre stage with aplomb and some were a little more reticent - but we all had a wonderful time. Kizzie's nose went very red and her face very white as she was so cold - but back at Wattlebury Cottage she and James warmed up with steaming soup.
​I explained to the youngsters born last year that if they were wanted to study further, they too could go on to University.
​"That would be wonderful!" Donna looked thrilled. "I would love that Uncle Gordon. How will James' work be marked?"
​I explained that it takes a lot of very clever people to mark the work and after the final exams he will be given his score. If he does excellently he will be awarded a First (a Geoff). A bit like us when we go to a Big Show. If he does very well, but not excellently, he gets a Second - either a 2.1 (an Attila) or a 2.2 (a Desmond) and if he comes 3rd (a Thora). I suppose he gets just a card instead of a rosette.
​"What does that mean?" piped up Beryl.
​"Well a First rhymes with Geoff Hurst - he remains the only man to score a hat-trick in a World Cup final as England recorded a 4–2 victory over West Germany at the old Wembley in 1966. So pretty special!"
​"Do you remember seeing that match Uncle Gordon?" asked Susie.
I tried to ignore the question and continued, just a little ruffled: "A 2.1 rhymes with Attila the Hun. Attila was the ruler of the Huns from 434 until his death in March 453. He was the leader of the Hunnic Empire, a tribal confederation consisting of Huns, Ostrogoths, and Alans among others, on the territory of Central and Eastern Europe."
​"And Desmond?" Pauly looked intrigued.
​"Desmond Tutu of course Pauly! He is a human rights defender and nobel prize winner from South Africa. He became world famous in the 1980′s as an opponent of apartheid, during which time he was a bishop for the Anglican church in South Africa."
​ "I've worked out the next one!"  Truffle looked highly delighted, "Thora Hird - third!"
​"Well done Truffle! Yes - the late Dame Thora Hird, actress!"
​We all agreed that it would be wonderful if James passed with any of these - but at the end of the day, whether you have been to University or are a Grub Controller in Wattlebury - to quote the words of Desmond Tutu:

​'Do your little bit of good where you are; its those little bits of good put together that overwhelm the world.'
​
Gordon xxx

.In the woods, at the edge of the Meadow, grow the most beautiful and delicate wild daffodils. Known as the Lent Lily, they are said to come into bloom on Ash Wednesday and die on Easter Sunday. Which is all very well if Easter isn't too early or too late. When we went for an Easter walk last week, they were in full bloom and if it hadn't been for that wretched Storm Katie battering them hither and thither on Monday morning, they would still be in full bloom. Strange that.
A. E. Housman penned a poem to the Lent Lily in the 1800s:

Tis spring; come out to ramble
The hilly brakes around,
For under thorn and bramble
About the hollow ground
The primroses are found.

And there's the windflower chilly
With all the winds at play,
And there's the Lenten lily
That has not long to stay
And dies on Easter day.

And since till girls go maying
You find the primrose still,
And find the windflower playing
With every wind at will,
But not the daffodil.

Bring baskets now, and sally
Upon the spring's array,
And bear from hill and valley
The daffodil away
That dies on Easter day.
​

We passed the pond and looked for tadpoles, but couldn't see any sign. However the most joyous of all sounds met our ears as we heard the first Chiff Chaff of spring in Wattlebury! We couldn't see it, try as we may - but the monotonous notes were loud and clear.
​And there, in their favourite place at the back of the meadow was the Woodpecker's home.

The fieldfares and redwings have been at Wattlebury in huge numbers this month too - they are winter residents in England and visit us on their way north to breed - Scandanavia is a favourite place. The Anglo-Saxon word feldefare perhaps meant traveller through the fields. Although the easterly March winds blew strong and cold, the hardy little violets and celandines are peeping through the brown oak leaves - especially if the sun is shining and offers a bit of warmth. The elder is one of the first trees to show its leaves, but the wild damson blossom has been out for some time. And today I spied a goodly sticky bud. In just a few days it will be April, when hedgehogs and dormice can end their hibernation and enjoy the sunshine. The overhead skylarks are already singing over the meadow and they will soon be finding a suitable place for their nest. What a wonderful time of the year. Gordon xxx

We have had a good spell of particularly dry weather. There has been a nippy north-east wind, but finding a sheltered spot in the corner of a stable with the warm sunshine caressing your feathers has been extremely pleasant. It has made us all feel that spring has arrived. The girls are laying their eggs and bustling about hither and thither. Sammy Squirrel and his mate are scurrying; Peter Rabbit and his wife are scampering; Mr and Mrs Blackbird are darting; Philip Pheasant is picking fights with rivals. It really is a hive of activity. The Roe Deer are bouncing and Mr Fox is hard at work looking after Mrs Fox and her babies. And I am keeping the yard looking spick and span eating grubs and bugs. Which I am glad to say are just becoming a little more plentiful.

Of course there are some of us who like a little time off for relaxation - Josie unwinds by having a swim - but she does work very hard and deserves a break. I don't swim. Never have fancied that at all. Don't even like the rain. Then there is Penny and Harry - they are sophisticated but because they are so big, they sometimes get in the way when I am working.  Gordon xxx

Today is St Patrick's Day, but who was Patrick? Where did he live? What did he wear and what did he eat for tea?
​We asked Josie to do a bit of research for us and she immediately twaddled away to the Library, her little head outstretched as she hurriedly purposefully along. The rummaging through Harvest's vast store of reference could be heard as far away as the Water Tower.
​"He is the Patron Saint of Ireland! Today is his Feast Day!"
That sounded promising.
​"Oh! How sad!" Josie looked down in the beak as she paused and read the tatty old scrappage of parchment. We held our breath.
​"He was kidnapped by Irish Pirates when he was just a boy and taken to Ireland to guard a flock of sheep."
We bowed our heads and waved our wattles.
​"But he escaped!"
​Yay!
​"It says here that whilst he was a shepherd God told Patrick to run to the coast where a ship would be waiting to take him home. Then he studied to become a priest and returned to Ireland to spread the word of Christianity."
​Oh.
​"And he originally wore blue - but now he is depicted wearing green. So if you celebrate St Patrick's Day today you have to wear something green."
​This is tricky. We could don a nettle leaf or two.
"Not sure how right this bit is. I think Patrick drank whiskey for tea. He went into an Inn and the barman served him a measure that was far short of what it should have been. St. Patrick took this as an opportunity to teach a lesson of generosity to the innkeeper. He told the innkeeper that in his cellar resided a monstrous devil who fed on the dishonesty of the innkeeper. In order to banish the devil, the man must change his ways. When St. Patrick returned to the hostelry some time later, he found the owner generously filling the patrons' glasses to overflowing and he proclaimed that thereafter everyone should have a drop of the "hard stuff" on his feast day."
Seems as if a trip to The Pooch and Pullet may be the order of the day.
Gordon xxx​