Seasonal matters
Here in the Antipodes (why isn't the UK called the Propodes?) it is pretty much the middle of Winter: most days have a frosty start and there aren't many flowers around. One good sign of Winter is the way the wombat that lives by the creek sits outside its burrow from lunchtime onwards on sunny days soaking up a few rays. I have also noticed that the anthills are getting seriously trashed, suggesting that echidnas are getting hungry. I saw the first one for several weeks this afternoon when the small dog went ballistic when up on the road for a walk: there was a spiny person hiding in a clump of wallaby grass. Another sign of Winter is that the local sheep are multiplying rather swiftly. I was going to title this post "especially with mint sauce - apparently originally attributed to the wife of Sir Walter Scott, but now (ab)used by every blogger on Earth. However here is a piccie of one with its Mum. The real sign of Winter is folk burning their heaps of crud that are ...