Furry Catkins

Or Pussy Willows to you and me.  Whilst Mrs Mac and I were toiling all week with report writing and room decorating, spring has only gone and sprung.  I was reading a report from Melbourne on the upcoming Aussie F1 Grand Prix and it spoke of Albert Park in early morning mist, draped in autumn leaves.  But here we are in the manger of spring with buds bursting and birds singing and the year opening out in front of us.  One week to go until we hitch up our caravan and migrate to France.  Yippee!!