Birthday cards

I was born at the beginning of the 1960s which I think was one of the loveliest periods to be a child. I connect strongly to the designs of the time. It is why I saved all of my childhood birthday cards. This is for those of you who like retro stationery.

Passover, and why the Egyptians wore short skirts

Today is the feast of Passover, which I celebrate with my husband. Tonight we are seating eleven guests around our table. It is pretty tiring, getting everything ready, so taking a moment to sit to catch my breath, I watched my little ginger huntress in the turning circle in front of our house, playing with a mouse. I decided to go out and photograph it, as it was so adorable. It seemed quite easy to approach, but I was being given the evil eye by our cat - she was saying "Don't you mess with my mouse!"

I took my eyes off it for an instant and it vanished. It didn't take me long to find out where. It had shinned up my trouser leg, on the inside and had made it as far as my upper thigh!

I yelled for my husband and captured the wee thing by holding the fabric on the outside. I couldn't stop laughing. Between us, we managed to get my trousers off, on the front doorstep and evict the cunning little thing.

There is a certain synchronicity to this event. I am trying to imagine how the Egyptians managed with a plague of rodents. Probably better than me, as mostly they wore short skirts and not trousers!

Servant of the Vineyard

He has been captured watching the boundary of the vineyard next door.

The kindness of neighbours and strangers

Our neighbour messaged me last night on her way home from work "Would you like some pears and chestnuts?" Wow! This is the same neighbour who has gifted us pumpkins and dessert grapes from their garden. This evening's offerings were one step removed however. She had been given rather a lot of both by a customer and had divided the bounty. Generosity a step removed. Thank you whoever you are who grows and shells perfect chestnuts.

Chestnuts appear in some of my earliest memories: of St Helen's Square in York, where in the 1960s vendors could be seen selling from braziers. It was an early autumn treat to go into town and consume them from a cone of brown paper. Later, on bonfire night they would be the treats to eat whilst watching rockets and Catherine wheels explode and make you dizzy.

Memories of my years living in Austria roasting them in our apartment oven. The horse chestnut variety were an excuse to take a walk in the Vienna woods, to kick away the leaves and collect a basketful to dry and make into decorations.

Later, in a park in northern Athens, I collected a handful and took them back to my desert home, vowing one day to live in a cooler climate where chestnut trees would be the norm.....and here I am and here they are.