Death of an Acacia

It is blowing a hoolie. I took several blips on my way home and was nearly airborne. Just having a cuppa, Himself looked out of the window and the acacia tree has tumbled. This poor old tree was severely hit by the bad winter three years ago and we thought we'd lost it then but it continued to bravely produce foliage, but no flowers. It has fallen directly onto the tree palm, so I hope that holds up. This is the third big tree we've lost this year - gaps are appearing rather alarmingly in the garden. Here are Himself and the two cats who seem to think the tree has been felled for their entertainment and are now climbing all over it. I hope nothing else goes.

I have to to brave the gales and venture out tonight. It's the Ladies' Book Club - after all the hoohah of the last meeting, when there were grumbles and mutterings into the wine glasses about not enough people actually reading the book, will we all have managed? The book in question is Isobel Allende's Portrait in Sepia, which I rather enjoyed - a sprawling saga of a family living in Chile at the beginning of the 20C.