Bad news on all fronts, this Imbolc.
First up, Hnaef's "Parade of Lactating Ewes". Disaster. Broke down the hedge and chased poor Marston Moretaine all the way to Aspley Guise. Don't know what it is about Marston. He must have a sheepy smell.
Then, in lieu of a groundhog, we dragged the earless Beaker Bunny out to predict how the weather's gonna be for the next six weeks. She savaged poor Marston, as he dragged himself back from Aspley. She's never good-tempered when disturbed. And I reckon Marston must have a bit of a rabbity smell.
Anyway, Beaker Bunny turned out to have eight shadows, which gave us much to reflect on. Mostly because we realised you're supposed to do the whole Groundhog thing outside, where the Moot House floodlights don't cause confusion.
And then, while we were debating what 6 weeks times 8 shadows are, our old friend Jadis turned up and told us that, in the event she holds the balance of power after May and goes into coalition with the Tories, it will be always winter but never Christmas. Then she went off laughing. But not until after she'd turned Marston to stone.
Poor old Marston. I think he must have a faun-y kind of smell.