spider, sprouts, notes

In mid air this spider is of the one which I photograph regularly because it is very common in these parts. I photograph it because, as an arachnophobe it helps me to let the animals know who is master.

Down to the vegetable garden to see if the pigeons have left us some sprouts for Christmas dinner. To my surprise, the "fairy cabbages" as my mother used to call them, are still intact on the stems, although the leaves and sprout tops have been shredded as have the few kale plants that were to supply us with vitamin C through the winter. The parsnips which I have also been hoping to use are meanwhile gripped by frost bound soil.

A day for transferring post-it notes, collected in a folder, in to appropriate note books. The system works through its irritation factor, The wretched little notes, many illegible, are a constant reproach to forgetfulness. Often I can't remember why I scribbled them in the first place, though I have learnt through bitter experience, to indicate their source. Putting them into notebooks makes me feel better, though I doubt if I shall read them again. It's the dictionary principle I suppose. All those words and you only ever want to look up a few of them. Writing  notesI suppose helps to imprint them on your memory, but my memory being what it is, I suspect that they will soon fade into the oblivion  even  after the repetition.