Luckily for us the forecast storm passed to the south last night. Now the wind has shifted around to the bitter north, blasting the garden with spiteful glee. Today was the kind of day when it is hard to get off the settee and go out into the fray – did I mention we now have a settee in the potting shed? The painful truth is, just as the only way to cure a toothache is to go to the dentist, the best way to get warm is to shift your behind and get moving. So I turned up my collar and headed out into the tempest. There is nothing like a bit of woodchip distribution to get the blood flowing and the colour back into your cheeks. My first job, resurfacing the woodland path was aborted after the first barrow. It was so muddy on the approach route it was a little like one of those sadistic game shows on the television (I wasn’t dressed up as anything amusing just a Michelin Woman). Not only would I be making the quagmire worse with every trip, the only way to slide, as usual in this garden, was down. So I decided to weed and mulch the borders instead. It was whilst I was filling yet another barrow with chips that I turns to see the unexpected sun shining onto the adjacent cliffs. It only lasted a couple of minutes and then the hail fell again, but by this time the healing had been done.