This blog is one year old already. If I was to bake a celebratory cake, certainly no help would be needed to blow the candles out. The strong breezes swirling over Wirral today are mild compared to last night's gales, though. That was a wild one!

My dogs want to play out in the sunshine but they hate the wind. They're terriers, for goodness sakes - supposedly outdoors-loving. Actually, they much prefer a warm spot on the couch. However, a paddle on the beach, a swim in the marina or a scent-laden wander through the woods is welcomed just so long as it's warm, dry and offers nothing stronger than a whispering breeze coming in off the sea.

And now the days are gradually warming up, it's weeding time again. Weeds seem to have an innate ability to grow three times faster than "real" plants. They also seem to have the knack of lodging themselves tightly against the stems of desired plants, so that the only way to eradicate the pesky things is to risk destroying their unintentionally protective host.

Some weed-killing products claim to zap the weeds without harming other plants. Clearly the manufacturers should have explained this more clearly to the leafy residents of my garden, who either ignore the product altogether or wilt en masse.

My dogs enjoy a spot of weeding, too, and are always eager to lend a helping paw. In Ygraine's case, this means digging holes. Lots of holes, anywhere. Well, the avid human gardener is digging holes, isn't she? Westies do like to join in.

Our Jack Russell puppy, Emily, has almost grasped the idea of "fetch". This means that I have to make sure the patio doors are closed, otherwise when I return to the living room I'll find a pile of muddy dandelions on the couch. That not everything thrown to one side needs fetching is something she's not quite figured out yet.