There is a little wren in our garden.  I love wrens, they always remind me of my childhood, but you don’t get to see them very often, in fact despite being fortunate to be brought up in a house with a very big garden I don’t remember seeing wrens in it as a child.  I think actually my childhood memories of wrens have more to do with when my grandfather used to visit.

He smoked a pipe and the tobacco he used came in a cylindrical tin.  He would put a shinny farthing in an empty tobacco tin and roll it across the hallway for us to chase after, if we caught it before it fell over we got to keep the farthing.  I can’t remember or not – maybe BB can help here – whether if we didn’t catch it he rolled it again for us or we then went farthing-less, maybe we always succeeded!