It's finally Spring, the first daffodils have struggled up through the winter-beaten ground. Yellow flowers are my favourite, equally suitable for weddings and funerals. Other anonymous plants are tentatively pushing up rubbery green spikes, looking as if they'd shoot back underground at the next frost. We're curious to see what has survived. Dozens of bulbs, cuttings and other odds and ends were planted in early Autumn last year, so many I have no idea where anything is. Every evening, now the light lasts longer, is an adventure into the garden to see what's new among the rotting leaves of last year's swift autumn - winter transition. A myriad of unknown little plants cover the ground before the grass gets a hold and it all gets mown away. Spiders dash nervously over the bare ground, transparent mosquitoes and mayflies soak up the damp midday sunlight and shiver under cold stones at night.

The Band is 'playing away' in Prague tomorrow to play at a ceilidh in ancient Vysehrad, the fortress of the mediaeval Czech kings. It will be a long and gruelling event from 8 till late, playing for the over-enthusiastic Prague Caledonian Club, perfect in every detail (very unlike us - five rustic north-Bohemian mountain dwellers stretching the middle age spread).

And before I forget to add my voice to the madding crowd, Free Tibet and Sack Robert Mugabe.