Happy New Year

Bitter cold, with the frost thick on the hills, but not yet coming down into town.
Colin saw seven long-tailed tits on his bird feeder.
There have been a lot of wrens around too - at this time of the year that Hunting the Wren is traditional.
I took Islay down to the Warren, where I saw my first lambs of the year - about half a dozen of them, up on the top part of the meadow. As I walked down past the main gate, Malachy and Sue and some friends, and a whole pack of dogs, were getting out of their cars, so I was able to tell them where the sheep were, and we all walked down the other way.
Coming back through town, I met Brian and Belle, and he asked me if I'd seen the wall of the Wheatsheaf. A couple of weeks before Christmas, someone bashed into the front wall of the Wheatsheaf in their car, which knocked a big lump of plaster off - and revealed that the wall wasn't brick or stone at all. Inside, it was wooden lathes, with plaster over them. They've mended the hole temporarily with plywood - and someone has written across it "Parking for Jasmine Thomas Only", so I presume that's who was driving the car.
More graffiti on the hoardings around Millbank - "Ugly Houses for Uglier People" - so there's still some simmering resentment there. I don't think they look that bad - nothing outstanding, but I've seen new buildings a lot uglier than these.