We're tree huggers from way back. We've never done the tie-dyed clothes, toe-rings and dreadlocks thing but I have actually seen the man of the house with his arms wrapped round a tree trunk. If you were there in the Ballarat Botanical Gardens on that day about 20 years ago, I was the woman standing about pleading, "Do you intend to hug every tree here?" We once drove for 9 hours through California USA to Yosemite National Park, so that the man could visit the magnificent Redwoods there. We couldn't hug the Grisely Giant because he has been fenced off to protect him from marauding tourist like us. At 2000 plus years even giants need a little TLC. For me there's something soothing about losing myself in the contemplation of a living thing that is so old that it was already a mature tree before our present day calendar began. What tales it could tell if it could talk. So when a tree is destroyed I am always sad - odd coming from a woodworker but we mostly work in plantation pine and our woodfire uses the trees that have fallen on our property. It is with great joy therefore that I announce the arrival of the first flowering of the regrown wattle tree that was blown down in our garden a couple of years ago. Just the day before its demise I had been admiring the beauty of the green and gold tracery against the blue sky and the next day it was a heap of firewood. Then in a few months new shoots started to show from the remaining roots and now it is taller than I am and putting out the flowers that I enjoy so much. One of the day-to-day little things that makes life pleasant. I hope there are plenty of pleasant things happening for you. Bye for now until next time.