The cats have gone off their very expensive canned meat. Dammit. And Isobel (small, intelligent, suspicious and unscrupulous) has a vet appointment this afternoon at three o'clock, which means that every door in the house is closed to ensure that she doesn't take refuge in an inconvenient spot such as under the cellar stairs. Watson's date with the vet is next week, but he is no trouble -- putting him into the carrier is a matter of scoop and drop.

Tuesday's blast of winter has ended, leaving a layer of new snow that is rapidly vanishing in bright sunshine. On the whole, a sheepish entry to the month of March.