Rhubarb, rhubarb

Yesterday we woke to welcome sunshine and a frost - no snow, no bitter wind. We were able to walk out into the garden and take a look around. The storms of the previous days had succeeded in lifting the lead flashing on the roof so we erected the scaffolding tower to carry out repairs. The tower is one of the most useful things that we have ever bought. It was purchased after Himself had fallen off a ladder. I do the second in command routine of standing below and passing things up and down. I'm also prone to the useless and possibly annoying refrain of, "for goodness sake be careful."

I took a look into the forcing pot to see how the rhubarb was coming along.

Excellent, enough to make a pudding.

Forced rhubarb, in the foreground, is more succulent than when it is grown in the open ground.

This orange and rhubarb meringue recipe is a favourite.

We ate some warm from the oven, but you should really wait until it is cold and the orange sauce has set.

The garden flowers have taken a hammering in the excessive cold.

My 'St Patrick's Day' daffodils are usually in flower on their name day but there will be no chance this year.

We walked into the woods this morning before the rain set in.

We hadn't been down to the little pond for ages as the woodland tracks have been a quagmire. In our absence the whole area has been cleared, steps made and new trees planted. It looks very bare and ugly at the moment, in what has always been a rather magical spot, but I'm sure that nature will soon reclaim it and soften everything down.