The nurture of nature

..the title being, of course, a play on the evergreen psychological Nature/Nurture debate.

What a weird night... firstly I dreamed of blogging.  This is a first for me and I had all sorts of great ideas of things I was going to share with you all and lovely smiley thoughts. One specific I dreamed about was Smacksy, I guess Bob had made an impression on me yesterday (if you haven't already visited Lisa and Bob, please do).  Sadly all those great, sunshiny ideas had vanished by morning.

Then I found myself awake at 4.20am worrying about which of my parents is going to die first.  Or more specifically the fact that statistically my dad is likely to die first meaning that my mum will have to cope without him and what a nightmare that will be.. although, when she had breast cancer and a mastectomy a couple of years ago she really surprised me with how well she coped through it; so perhaps I am underestimating her.   Still, not cheerful thoughts to say the least.

That of course led on to just rubbish stuff about being separated from Mr H. (and Django) and I won't go into that in case I get upset again.

So.. thankfully I dropped off to sleep again, but sadly none of you figured in the rest of my dreams, sorry.

Woke at 7am to pouring rain.  Woke at 8am to sunshine glinting off the wet trees, looked out of the sitting room/bedroom window and there were a couple of Blue Tits pecking away at insects on top of my "Garden Wall"

Sorry about the reflection on the window, I hope you can see it ok.   

When I say Garden Wall I don't mean around the perimeter as we have hedges.  When we built our little extension in 1993 we took out a section of 19th C solid brick wall, which we stacked up against the garage ready to use to lay a new drive.  Over the years it has grown its own garden from seeds blown on the wind or dropped by birds. Last year there was even a cherry tree growing in it but we cut it down before the weight pulled the wall down (sorry Mr H. but I can see a new one growing).    I love all the ferns and foxgloves and moss growing completely wild.

(The front row of bricks is more recent from January '10)

Birds never fail to bring a smile to my face, be they busy Blue Tits, matriachal Blackbirds, steadfast Greenfinches or hovering Buzzards.   

I am currently reading the best of Gerald Durrell, about his exploits with, and love of, all things feathered and furred back in the mid 20th century;  if you haven't read his books they are well worth it and exude feel-good from every page.

So, today looks like it's going to be sunshiny with heavy showers - maybe I'm glad I'm not strolling into the market.  I've done the vacuuming, the clothes washing is on and I'm about to make myself a bacon and egg sarnie for brunch before I settle down to my Saturday studying session.

Onwards and upwards.