So far one newly hatched chick under a Silkie, two abandoned eggs and maybe more chicks to come.

Poddy lamb and the new twins

By chance I turned on the TV just now (ignoring Jeremy’s advice to avoid the news – which is making me more and more despondent). On the BBC there was an interview with my friend’s son, Harry Jackson.

Harry decided to start collecting medical supplies and also flack jackets and helmets for Ukraine. He put up his idea on social media and his front room was soon overwhelmed with donations.

The vans are loaded and on their way. Harry is engaged to a Polish woman whose aunt is working in an orphanage in Kyev. The aunt will not leave the children. Perhaps good will triumph over evil. Whatever happens “well done Harry” snd all those who have been moved to help him.

As I returned two chairs to the synagogue in London yesterday I opened the back of my car to offload them. A fellow (that seems to be a male word) congregant rushed to “help” me as he said I was “a woman”. I countered that I work on a farm but he insisted on lifting the chairs out anyway!

In Ukraine women and children try to cross the border and their menfolk stay behind (voluntarily or compulsorily) to fight. There are women in the army but in a family someone has to take care of the children. Amongst the metropolitan young families I know in England I see a greater sharing of childcare than ever but there is a long way to go and maybe that is why in most so called “developed” countries in the world (including China) the birth rate is plummeting – women don’t want the responsibility and restrictions of childcare.

At the moment everything is subsumed, in my head and heart, by the War. I turn off the news for fear of becoming paralysed by sadness and also anger and impotence. I have joined a WhatsApp group with live updates from a mission who have flown to Poland from Israel with essentials and donated money to buy goods, medicines and generators to take across the border to Lviv. They are also bringing supplies to newly arrived refugees in Poland. So many want to help from so many countries as we watch the destruction of Ukraine. We are applying sticking plasters to a gaping wound – it seems that is all we can do.

This time, on my trip, I returned the mourning chairs and prayer books to the synagogue. Then I enjoyed a cup of coffee and conversation with my dear friend Joy. After that I went to my brother’s workplace and was greeted warmly by his delightful colleagues. We then sat in a restaurant and ate a bowl of soup accompanied by some surprisingly delicious granary bread. I don’t known if brother and I have ever gone out to lunch like this before. It felt good and quite grown up (which given that we are in out sixties but don’t really believe this is not that strange!).

I was principally in London to attend the funeral of a friend that mum made at the Care Home. She was a lovely woman who was always beautifully made up and beautifully dressed with a warm and welcoming smile. Her daughters and I (like our mothers) became friendly – a friendship which will continue. This much loved woman arrived in England on the kinder transport in 1939 from Czechoslovakia. The kinder transport was a relief effort between 1938 and 1940 that brought 10000 unaccompanied minors (mainly Jewish children) to Great Britain from Germany and German occupied countries. This lady, who has died at the age of 97, never saw her parents again. Her most treasured possession was the handkerchief which her father gave her after be wiped her tears away as they said farewell at the train station. In spite of this tragedy she worked, married happily, brought up two daughters who adored her and was blessed with six grandchildren and ten great grandchildren. She was the matriarch of the family and also a wonderful cook snd hostess. This was a woman who put bitterness behind her and radiated love – witness a packed funeral and many tears. Her daughters said how horrified their darling mother would be to see what is happening in Ukraine today.

I drove home listening to reports of mothers and children trying to escape indiscriminate Russian bombing and reports of children and parents living in basements without food, water or lights. How has it come to this? I had to switch off the radio. I couldn’t bear to hear of the suffering. We, at The Gables, would willingly take in refugees but our country, this time, has only issued 50 visas whilst Poland and surrounding lands are opening their arms, their homes and their hearts to over one and a half million people who escaped with only what they could carry. So many people are writing to their MPs here saying that they want to help. Let us take them in and continue a tradition that highlights the best of humanity. We need to act.

The chicks emerge from under mother’s warm feathers as the temperature slowly rises

Purple sprouting is…….. sprouting