I went up to Hiller’s this morning in search of lamb stock – at least, that was my excuse. My sis is coming for dinner this evening and I’m slow-roasting some shoulder of lamb, to a recipe requiring stock that no other outlet had been able to sell me, and which I know Hillers usually has. In the event, the farm shop was out of stock of lamb stock, but the bird hide was at least able to provide me with a robin so I count the trip as a success.
I tend to become curmudgeonly around this point in the year, seeing decorations appearing around houses and public spaces at what I feel is an almost criminally early stage of the season. A robin is OK though, isn’t it? Provided you don’t Photoshop snow into the scene. Interestingly, the robins around Hillers’ garden and woodland seem to keep themselves to themselves for much of the year, and it’s only now that they’ve begun flaunting themselves around the clearing again, and posing for
seasonal photos. This one even did a bit of singing today, though I failed to capture the moment.