helping to blow out yet another set of birthday candles
before his own comes around next week.
This time it is his Grandad who has sneaked in with his 50th.
It all helped to brighten this dreak Saturday
when fog and rain painted back the greys and bone bare colours
of our normal winter days.
The white world we've become familiar with in the last week
is running at the edges,
seeping lingering damp into the air,
and clinging to us like a persistent whisper we have tried to forget.
The more strident tones of the news tells us many are
still stranded in wintry strongholds.
I look at the broken patches of remaining snow
and remember my mother's old saying and wondered if these
sullied remnants were really "waiting around for more".
Forecasters are hedging their bets at present I think.
Meanwhile, snug in our family celebrations
I give thanks for our many blessings.
Wherever you are