It is now pouring. It is still dark. Mum threw our croissants and bananas into the dustbin and tried to give us the old bag of rubbish from the kitchen bin. The sky had bubbled pink and then pale dusky orange from the south west and it looks as if we are in for a wet and drearsome day. Neddie and Seagoon flew down from Jack's horse chestnut tree and were soggy. They roost up there now - we have offered them a nice dry perch in the barn, but they firmly declined. That's kids for you. Harry roosts high in the Oak tree and he does still have a covering of leaves - but looked hunchy and miserable as he tried to dry out on the top of the pens. And Harvest sat squarely in her sandpit of water with the drops running across her feathers and declared "Tres bien!" Gordon x