Nothing quite so irritating as a migrating mite

I’ve been fascinated by Anne Treneman’s continuing tales in The Times of the lovey-dovey visitors to the yew tree outside her husband’s ‘man cave’ window. I can still recall, only too creepily, my own similar story. Back at the old house, before I moved north to Cumbria, I too had a pair of amorous collared…

Flower power

Meanwhile, back on Planet Council (see Lidl post), not content with concreting over the place at every turn, our councillors – bless ’em all – have new plans for dystopia, in the form of CCTV cameras in town. Thanks to a ten grand grant (or whatever these things are termed) from Allerdale council, which is clearly…

The bluebells of Rannerdale

It’s the otters I really want to talk about – so much to say, so much frustration. So much obfuscation. But before I do, I should just mention the bluebells. Because, whatever there is out there to make us angry or tired, or frustrated with ‘the system’, there is nothing – absolutely nothing – that…