Hungry audience

I was preparing dinner the other night when the back of my neck started to prickle in that sixth sense way that tells you there is someone, or something, looking at you. In my case it was 'somethings' in the plural. Out beyond the patio doors there were Flad the resident cat, Oliver the greedy fox, a magpie, a crow, two pigeons and a squirrel, all staring hard and hopefully. All that came to hand was a stale scone. That eliminated one of the hopefus straight away - Flad. However, Oliver scarpered with it before the rest got a look-in.

The new fish are settling in well. We inherited four large ones from someone who was moving house. The big spotty one that I call Measles has spent the last few days resting up in the lily stems. My partner guessed she was about to spawn and this morning there was a shoal of teeny fry to add to the various youngsters in the pond. They shoal by size. There is one shoal of one-inch fry and another of two-inchers which already have a gold sheen when the sun hits them. A friend has already put in an order, having lost most of his to a heron. As 11 of ours came from him in the first place, it seems only right that their descendents should return to their watery ancestral home, which is a long, narrow pond in Langley!