I don't believe it!

They've cut down my tree!

I went to the village this morning and the shop I buy my olives in is opposite the house I was born in and grew up in. At the bottom of the garden was a huge tree. It was huge when I was little so it must have been old then.

And now they've cut it down. I said as much to the girl in the shop and she said, 'yes, they did it yesterday. It was very noisy.'

I wasn't interested in the noise; I was too concerned with the fact that a tree - my tree - was no more.

It might have been dangerous. It looked dangerous when it swayed in the wind but it had looked precarious for the last fifty years. As a child I used to imagine it falling down across the road and onto the shop opposite. But it didn't.

On the other side of the garden when I was a child there was a huge grassy bank. It covered an old air raid shelter. It was my look-out place, my upstairs, my hideout. They took that away too.

When we sold the house I think it was probably the first thing the new owners did. Bulldoze it to make a space for parking. That was bad enough but I could see the purpose behind it.

What purpose can anyone have for getting rid of a tree?

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Before going to the village we went to the car boot sale. It's the first time I've been to one for, probably, years. We were on the lookout for accessories for the up-and-coming fancy dress party. I managed to get some half-tarty shoes and a pile of bangles for £4 altogether. Husband was more fussy: he turned up his nose at a white scarf as it wasn't silk.

My dress arrived from ebay but the colour is a bit ropey so I'm having a go at dyeing it. I'll let you know how that turns out ...