The crocuses are up, fragile little hectics in consumptive pastel colours. I have some in egg-yolk yellow this year, and some in a weird dusky cream. Colours on unusual varieties often revert over the years, though (witness the march of my exotic parrot tulips back to blousy yellow and red) so I'm enjoying them while theye're here. J of the fabulous garden will get back to find her crocuses up. They're a blissed-out, virginal white. I found her cache of bird food (or possibly she'd left it out for me) so I put out some while I gardened. Dunnock, Blackbird, Sparrow, Robin, a tit or two and ... a Redwing? Probably so, I saw a Fieldfare today. They must still be around, stripping the last of the berries.

Here's the first of the tenovertwelve mixes: an agoraphobic delight of exotic indoor tunes delivered from the depth of the sofa. My favourite track (it stopped me while I was gently pruning some woody lavender) was Sitting Still Talking about Jets by Detachment Kit.

throughout the winter she never left her living room by bibliogirl