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Saturday January 6, 2007

Something about Hitler

"Ye gods and little fishes," I said. "Will you look at that!"

"What?"

"That!" I said, pointing to a group of three cherry trees in full bloom in a sheltered courtyard by The Clink in Bridgwater.

"Ye gods and little fishes. It's the end of the world!"

Well, it isn't the end of the world of course but... Cherry trees in full bloom in the first week of January? Astonishing. Rare. Not unknown, but exceeding rare.

And then, a little later as I pulled into the car park by the side of Comet where we intended to buy a new Freeview digital TV box, I did the ye gods and little fishes thing again.

"What now?" Graham demanded.

"Look. That hedge is in bloom!"

As a matter of clear observance, there are signs of Spring all over, at least two months early. Arable fields are fully green already, again, far earlier than usual. I do hope that the frosts will not end it all in tears. It's certainly not usual, and I notice that the snowdrops are being far more cautious. I can't say I've ever observed cherry blossom before the snowdrops flower before but it seems we live in strange climates just now.

It was pouring with rain most of the day, and light levels were way, way down, so I was unable to record either sight. I hope we'll have a spot of sun soon so I can get out with my video camera properly.

But... Cherry blossom in January! I ask yer.

I felt dreadfully sorry for the poor young man acting as servotron in Comet. He clearly hated the job, and had allowed it to really get to him.

"You don't like retail work, do you?" I asked, smiling sympathetically.

"Not a lot. It's very tiring."

"Well take a tip from me and get out of it as soon as you safely can. Otherwise it'll drive you nuts."

He actually smiled, rather nicely, too.

I always feel bad when I see young people doing a job they hate. They don't have the resilience of us oldsters when it comes to tackling a grotty job and it can truly get them down. Youth is too short to waste like that.

So, anyway, I was quite merciful with him, and only sent him back to the warehouse twice to get the precise box I wanted. He'd have got it right first time if he'd taken the trouble to listen more carefully to what I wanted.

Graham had the box unpacked and plugged in before I'd had a chance to brew a pot of tea. It works fine, and I was able to fix our lunch while watching a digital channel that was showing something rather more interesting than the usual afternoon murder shows. Something about Hitler, I think it was.