And then...

...Earth Day.
Earth Day for Earthlings. A beautiful, sunny day, the sky the absolutely perfect blue, unless that is you prefer more of an Oxford blue.

There was a frost last night. On the edge of the park this morning, the grass was glazed with it, or rimed if you will, rimed with frost, hoar frost. The ditches were covered with jagged, fractured ice. I have discovered a way across the ditches, planks and trunks laid by someone. I am benefiting from someone else's toil.

At my writers' group last night, someone commented that they had read an article in one of the rags about Starbuck's pastries. I think the implication was that this was too trivial a subject to write about. But I don't think so. Much good comedy and writing is about seeming trivia. I can't see that there are dull topics - obviously apart from sport, that goes without saying - simply the way the topics are approached.
I have never found Starbuck's pastries to be inspiring, but it could be that very lack of inspiration that can provoke.

I loved the Guardian's way of presenting the findings that pregnancies that produce boys are more likely to occur after a period of high-calorie intake. What are little boys made of? Bananas, they answer.

I was also pleased to see that St. George's Day is rising in popularity. I suspect this has as much to do with Harry Potter as anything else, but it doesn't bode well for that other GB, no, not George Bush, Gordon Brown. Poor Mr. Brown. He seems like a very decent fellow, but he simply doesn't know when to hold the line.
Ah, Tony, I miss him.