I have been woken by sunlight most mornings over the past couple of weeks, the snowdrops and crocus are blooming, and then yesterday I saw my first frogspawn of the year! So things feel good.

I proceeded to tell Firstborn all about the frogspawn, and how it was in the middle of the pond which, folklore would have it, means we’re in for a hot, dry summer. “Uhuh,” he said, looking unconvinced.

“No, really,” I insisted, explaining that the frogs sense that the pond is going to dry up round the edges in the summer so they put the spawn in the middle. When they sense it’s going to be damp, they lay it at the edges. As I was busy explaining my folklore my brain kept giving me a little nudge, and eventually I realised that, as the spawn is all hatched out within a month or so, it doesn’t make any difference whether the summer is dry or wet. Darn.

Here are some snowdrops, at Oakwell Hall:

I can’t seem to avoid having slightly blurry photos.

Then Firstborn and I tried to get Sparky to pose alongside a clump. She wasn’t terribly impressed with the idea, but eventually consented to park her bottom – right on top of a bunch of the little flowers. Oh well: