Tweet of the day

21 years ago today, in the teeth of a lashing storm and ferocious gale, my mother drove my youngest sister and her partner over the hill, Rest and be Thankful, and down to the Vale of Leven hospital, where their first son/ my mum's second grandchild / my first nephew was born. The rest of us had stayed up all night at home, watching the wild waves tearing up the shore. When we finally went to bed at dawn, we accidentally left the phone off the hook. The first we heard of the new day was our bird-like neighbour, Mrs C, tapping on the front door with her beak, announcing, "You have a nephew! Its a boy!"

This reclusive widow, whom we hardly knew after seventeen years of living next door to her, had formed a friendship with my youngest sister when the latter was still at primary school and would come home to an empty house. Dark afternoon after afternoon, they shared children's stories and biscuits together over Mrs C's inadequate heating arrangements. It was was fitting that she should be the bearer of the good news.

Happy Birthday, Connor! And good luck to those in Argyll having babies, who still have to be driven all the way down to the outskirts of Glasgow, never mind the ones catching the ferry....

If these birds could speak, they'd probably say what a warm, fine day it's been, and how they have been stuck on the edge of this bird bath for so long that they've forgotten how to fly away. The stone is from the shores of Loch Etive, behind my mother's house.