I know it must be nearly the beginning of the end of winter: as I ventured into the chill air this morning, I was met by the sight of a veritable little copse of plastic road barriers that had sprung up overnight.
“My, my,” I thought to myself, as a little frisson lifted the spirits.
“It must be February and the start of the road digging up season – otherwise known as the end of winter.”
For in humble Hackney, with more reliability than the first snowdrops poking through, come roadworks.
They dig holes in our road at least twice a year – I am increasingly convinced that they use us for training apprentice road digger uppers: it’s difficult to work out otherwise why it happens with such astonishing regularity.
And our little stretch hasn't even had its old Victorian sewers replaced yet – this time next February, perhaps?