Blessings

The news is having an increasingly visceral effect on me. On Sunday, reports of some Oxfam workers' behaviour in Haiti made me reel, and for a moment I thought I was going to faint. Of course, of course, powerful paedophiles and other sex menaces will prey on vulnerable people wherever they can, and what better scenario for exploitation than an earthquake in a third world country. And once these revelations are known, others surface in different zones. Almost worse than this terrible news, though, is the misuse of over 4 billion pounds of aid that was raised in large part by individual donations to rebuild Haiti. My friend who has often reported from there, and sent missives though From Our Own Correspondent, told me years ago that there was surprisingly little evidence of improvements on any large scale. How low can people sink? I can barely stand to read the paper these days, and never watch the news.

So it was with sheer delight and amazement that I opened the back door not once but twice to people delivering flowers to me yesterday. I could scarcely take it in, this sudden floral influx, and couldn't wait to see who they were from. One had been sent by Hugo, telling me he loved me! Such taste! And the other was from an old and very dear friend who really wished me good luck for next Tuesday but made a smiling nod to the day and what might have been. Both lots are absolutely beautiful, and I've taken a photo of Hugo with his, though he is bashfully looking the other way.

I know he must be missing his usual runs, so I wrapped myself against the wind and set off into a very sunny field to let him off the lead. He hadn't gone 50 metres when I spotted two lots of hares sunning themselves, nine altogether. Luckily he hadn't seen them, and I hurried him back onto his lead and down the lane to the churchyard instead. The sun was warm, but that wind has a fierce edge to it still, so I kept my gloved hand to my mouth and stayed out no more than a few minutes. But as the morning wore on it got warmer and in the end I couldn't resist a quick look around the garden. Using refuse collection day as my excuse, I strolled around the beds admiring the very evident signs of growth - green shoots and buds sprouting everywhere. Is anything more designed to fill you with hope that change is on the way, and an end to the recent testing weather?