It's really too early to be posting pictures of robins, although we do have one defining its territory in the garden, made even more alert since the arrival of yesterday's seed balls which I've simply hung on a couple of bushes.
The robin seems to be trying to protect the entire cache for its own private larder, although the combined forces of several finches and a couple of blackbirds seem to be able to overwhelm the perimeter guard.
Tree hunting today, as we start the preparation for the Christmas season.
Tomorrow I'll be in the roof searching for the lights and decorations.
In some ways it all seems early, but as I'm off to Paris on Monday I've got to start the preps now or we'll have a stateless house instead of a convivial home by the start of the main season.
I've already added a couple of minor decorations outdoors, which comprise those round balls of seeds that the birds love and within an hour there was a minor flurry of smaller birds twittering and squabbling around the new source of riches.
That all seems quite close to home, but on t'interweb this weekend we've also seen the flurry of twittery activity around conversion of avatars to cartoon characters to support childrens' charities.
Good publicity?
It wasn't clear when it started that there was any targeted beneficiary other than the tentacular and megalithic f***book which seemed to be the source of the changes. Get everyone to logon and change their profiles and no doubt create other activity as well.
Later the UK variant of the meme became associated with NSPCC, which is a cause worthy of donation. They claim the fundraising wasn't of their making but presumably are getting something from the slipstream effect.
It's also spawned a whole range of other rhetoric but few links to the fundraising pages.
What a difference a day makes in the land of the ice and snow.
Thursday morning I'd awoken at around 3:30 and noticed a light, if respectable, covering of snow everywhere. I knew that only the first two or three cars would make it out of the road and then it would turn into an icy skid-pan.
Sure enough, an urgent early morning carpet delivery to someone in the neighbourhood did the deed and managed to end up as a one van roadblock across the end of the street. It's long wheelbase majesty was eventually moved to the side after about an hour but had glazed the whole surface to the extent to make it impassable.
We decided to try out the new technology of grippy kevlar wheel socks(!) to see whether it would assist the escape. As my neighbour also had a set, we decided to try his first and to our joint pleasure his car then smoothly exited the street without misadventure.
I learned in the process that the video of the Norwegian girl with the brown leather boots and orange rubber gloves was somewhat misleading.
She'd put her socks on in about three minutes.
Twenty was closer to the truth.
But they did work. And work well.
Before embarking on my equivalent thirty minute mission, I decided to try the little green hatchback which has front wheel drive. I'd noticed that other similar small tyred vehicles seemed to be getting about whereas the Executive Saloons with Fat Tyres were spinning and slipping all over the place.
And yes, the Ka worked fine by just scraping the ice from it.
By the time I reached gritted and salted road surfaces it was also toasty warm inside. That evening I was back in the centre of London complete with Ka.
By Friday morning I was beginning to wonder what the fuss had been about. I looked out onto the busy roads and traffic was moving normally.
During the day I was in the centre and west of the centre and in both areas there's already large areas with pavements showing and roads which appear to function normally. Battersea Park still had a pretty look, with snow in the trees and the cycle tracks around there were somewhat icy.
My morning meeting was across in the clubby Pall Mall area. I chatted to the receptionist and mentioned the weather. "Yes, I miss the regular snow," she replied,"it's not like home."
Her home was Poland and she explained that the snow there was more predictable and created less chaos. The usual London comment about how such a small dusting could create such a big impact. Then it was back to Sloane Square, where the arctic conditions being reported on the news were all too evident. Take a look at the above iPhone shot of the conditions probably at their peak - I even had to wait three minutes for a 137 bus.
Later in the day I had to drive out of the centre.
Still no real snow on the roads and maybe a centimetre or two along the edges.
On one hand we've been better at clearing it this time, but on another I'm wondering if there was really that much 'down south' compared with last January?
Still. It looks better on the weather maps to show a foot of snow around the capital, especially on a Friday.
An extra early start today before heading into Surrey for a meeting. I was one of the presenters so it was kind of important that I showed up, despite the various stories about huge tailbacks on the motorways and hundreds of lorries stranded in snow drifts.
I even took some snow boots in the car and an extra alpine type double layered snow jacket so that if I was stranded somewhere I could keep snug.
Of course, my entire route apart from the piece more or less outside home was almost snow free. I could see there were big hold ups in other areas based upon the little pictures of cars in line on the sat nav and I'll concede that the posh venue in it's own grounds had snow on the ground when I arrived.
It turned out that I was ridiculously early having allowed a huge safety margin for the expected arctic conditions. It gave me a chance to make a few phone calls although at 0730 there was a relatively select group of people that I could call.
By the time I left in the afternoon there was ice underfoot and a chill wind. But still no snow on the way back until I was within sight of the front door.
Excitement today as I awoke to Snow on the Ground. My iPad weather forecast had predicted this and just like on Sunday it was right to within an hour.
When I say snow, I'd best use one of those Inuit terms for better precision, so I'll describe it as a light dusting, rather than the stuff we had at the beginning of 2010.
When I lived in Germany, November 21 was pencilled in as the date for snow and it was quite dependable. Hereabouts it is rather less predictable and even with electronic assistance the next few days are a relative unknown.
Today's meeting was moved from Swindon to 'by phone' although I'm expecting tomorrow's session in Surrey will go ahead as planned. My systems say it will snow between midnight and one in the morning, but I'm not sure I'll be paying too much attention.
At least I don't have any flights until next week, by which time I suspect that normal early December weather will have returned so that we can place bets about snow on Christmas Day.
Away for the weekend, down on the South coast with friends.
A convivial Saturday evening in a loud buzzing local Italian restaurant.
Then Sunday's bracing walk along the sea shore, chatting before taking chocolate drink refuge in a convenient cafe whilst the snow gently fell.
We were still wondering what had happened to 'my accidental bag' as we sipped our warming drinks out of the cold.
Late the previous evening, after copious wine and during a lively and emotional discussion, I had inadvertently bid for a cream coloured Chloe handbag on eBay (don't ask).
By Sunday breakfast we couldn't resist taking a look to ensure that I had been outbid.
It's a long story.
It turned out I was, indeed, still the proud leading bidder although I was being assured that my paltry bid would be outdone.
Now I don't know anything about handbags. Or the going rate for ones called Chloe.
Suffice to say this one had a serial number, so the alarm bells should have been ringing past the rather delightful Cabernet Sauvignon. I seem to remember the bag had a big padlock, came with another bag to put it in(?) and was named after a London train station.
I'd already run the emergency 'who could I give this to?' script in my head when at some point on Monday I received another email from eBay.
I remember reading the first Harry Potter book whilst in Barbados as beach escapism. Then by about book three the movies had started along with full Potter mania. A friend used to live in the Bracknell housing estate where the first movie's home scenes were filmed.
I can also remember being on the way back from a late evening when the fourth (very thick) book was published and we stopped in the wee small hours to pick up a copy from a surprisingly busy bookstore.
Last night I saw the new movie and realised I've somehow missed a section. It didn't take long to get into the plot again though, although I was surprised to see Alan Rickman now with the baddies. I had to have that transition explained to me on the way back from the movie.
This part of the story is dark right from the opening logo and has some excellent ensemble pieces with all the bad folk together plotting the demise of Harry.
I won't say more about the plot, but I liked some of the whimsical touches like the totally permissible Tardis effect of the tent, and the mix of magic and real world physics as ways to run some of the fight scenes. Belatrix obviously has fast reactions but an old Del Boy move still confused her.
There were plenty of famous British landmarks on display too, from London Town, the Dartford Crossing (a Batman/MIB moment) and swathes of Essex/Kent replete with pylons, Lavenham (a rashbre haunt), Malham and the Limestone Pavement, allegedly the forest of Dean, and something that looked like the Linn of Dee.
A strong cast throughout, with plenty of reprises for well-known actors. To my eyes some of the teen scenes (like the dancing) looked bolted on. There were also clearly places where a 3D experience had been orchestrated but wasn't used.
Altogether, an enjoyable, immersive and escapist couple of hours.
Sunday - summary Sycling - around country lanes Shocked - at the number of gunshots from the fields Scribbing - some novel paragraphs Shopping - in the 'biggest urban mall in Europe' Scoffing - alright enjoying a lovely restaurant supper Sneering - at a recording of that terrible television programme Savouring - that William Boyd story about any human heart Smiling - that we've bagged some HP tix for Wednesday at the Electric
I woke up this morning at about 05:30 and do you know what? It seemed like the middle of the night.
Anyway, I decided this time of morning wasn't a good look today and decided instead to listen to the bell-ringing on Radio Four.
But now (post bike riding) I'm facing down a long schedule of activities for the rest of the day which include a visit to one of the larger West London shopping malls.
