Back in the garden the tadpoles had hatched and a large part of the day was spent walking up and then down from the pond to see how they were doing. A consensus built up that very few of us knew anything worth knowing around the younger lives of the frog. So we were left with that perpetual dilemma of the the wildlife film maker to interfere or to leave nature to do its worst. Here the frogspawn had hatched but all seemed becalmed on a slight ridge in the plastic. Some of the wriggled but some of them were still. I dragged a stick through the water and watched as some of them broke free no doubt to be consumed by the lone goldfish that lurked.

Later I started on the rhubarb vodka all courtesy of Diane Henry. Whatever rhubarb was bought has been washed and is maricating in a large glass jar with plenty of sugar. Tomorrow I will introduce vodka and leave for a few weeks before drinking.