Much in March

Evening all, and 'Appy St David's Day. For those of you who don't know, St David's Day means Wales, leeks, daffodils, and a lot of folk singing 'Land of My Fathers'. It also means thank goodness we've got January and February out of the way, it should get a bit warmer now. Don't 'old yer breath waiting, though.

Mind, it were a bit warmer today, so 'erself potters out into the garden like the first 'edge'og of spring. Went around with the secateurs, pruned this, pruned that, would have pruned me if I weren't made of stone, there's no knowing what 'er might have done if them secateurs hadn't dropped to bits in 'er 'and. 'Er pulled up a few weeds, which is always improving to a gnome's eye view of the garden. Now, 'er's got a couple of new roses, just little ones what cover the ground, and today was the day 'er planted 'em.

Just as well there weren't nobody there to 'ear 'er chatting away to 'em. 'I've dug you a nice big 'ole, it's all comfy and ready for you, in you go. Now we'll give you some nice backfilling to make you comfy. And these are all your new friends. 'Ello, little Iceberg. I'll put you in 'ere beside Angel of Lichfield and you can look after each other.' Give each other greenfly, more like. Blimey, it'll be conversations with compost next.

But 'er never sees what I see in the garden. Minute 'er went in and shut the door, them roses was falling over each laughing.