"Why?" you might ask, and if you did, read on, dear Mark, Mike, and any other most-welcome browsers.
The fact that today is a Friday the 13th is of no significance to me, as I believe you make your own good or bad luck, except where winning the Lottery is concerned.
Several weeks ago I agreed that I would like to attend the "Christmas Dinner" celebration of the Woodhall Spa and District Gardeners' Association, but I was no longer relishing the idea of leaving the house when the temperature was already below freezing, even if I only had to drive for a mile and a half to my friendly, local inn - The Abbey Lodge. Getting in and out of the Volvo has now become a slow, uncomfortable process, which I undertake only when absolutely necessary, but I convinced myself it would be worth it for I would be in good company for the evening, and it would be great to enjoy some good food that I didn't have to prepare for myself.
My "Ironing Lady" arrived to house-sit, with two of her daughters for company, so I set off later than I had intended, and was duly rewarded on my outward journey by the excitement of a fleeting glimpse of a barn owl perched on top of the owl box.