From the archives

The shape of things

Hooray for February. January is always the most ghastly month, and this one hasn't been short of trials. It's a crystal clear start, though there is a pink-grey weight to the sky in the north that implies the approach of snow. Our garden these days is always Tim Burtonesque, what with the neatly clipped bushes, courtesy of the Eastern European gardeners, the brutally pared back apple tree, the green slope that rises behind the messy hedge, the poached egg moon and the cottage in the woods, pouring out ghostly woodsmoke.

I'm expecting some news today on the professional front that will have a huge impact on the shape of things for the next few months or more - and whatever the outcome, it will be for the best.