I KNOW that we, and perhaps me in particular, knock the system, but this situation in Baghdad makes you stop and think.

It makes you really appreciate all the services we are provided with -- police, hospitals, fire, ambulance, even our much maligned local government all there, all working making our lives run along, if not always happily, at least fairly smoothly.

It's so difficult to imagine what it would be like if all the things we take for granted came to a standstill.

To call the police and there's no-one there, ring for the fire brigade, same thing, take her up to A and E, and Oh, my God! Maternity. Or even something as simple as getting your bin emptied. Frightening isn't it?

As I sit here writing, I am quiet and still scared of looking round or altering my position. I don't want to frighten away my visitors, a man and his wife.

Well that's not strictly true it's a little Robin Redbreast and his loved one.

You see, while the nice weather has been with us I have been leaving the garden door open and feel very honoured by them looking in.

He struts in telling her: 'Don't you worry my little love, I'll just go first see if everything's OK.'

She then follows a little more hesitant.

But during the past two weeks they have got bolder. So I now find myself putting out crumbs, bits of meat, cut up very small, of course and then -- wait for it -- bits of fluff suitable for their nest building project.

Later I am hoping they might bring in the family. Maybe I am expecting too much, but to me, at this moment it's a little bit of magic.

I SEE that we have yet another piece of modern art in Church Street, is it a Damien Hirst?

Is it due to go in the Tate? Oh, I am so sorry, it's my mistake. I can see what it is now, it's a two-storey temporary building painted white to make it seem less conspicuous, no doubt housing the work force, who are doing up the Pavilions.

So it looks like 'the' street is once again to be a building site, well, at least all through the summer until November.

I wonder could all this not have been housed inside the buildings themselves? This is what would have had to happen if the buildings had belonged to a private individual.

I can only hope that builders are a local firm. I would just hate all that money -- a million and a quarter wasn't it? -- of our money going out of the town.

But enough of this and that. Folk have been stopping me and talking about things they did as kids. Sticking their 'speggy' (chewing gum to the young) on the bedpost, dipping it in their sugar bowl to refresh the taste.

Asking their mates to 'stump them' when they were eating an apple. Playing cat's cradle with a loop of string, collecting fag cards, marbles.

Remember those glorious glass allies? It seems that after school we always played out, all our games were on the streets, statues, tig, truth or dare. I can tell you that was exciting.

Now the children seem to stay indoors, to be always alone playing games on the computer. I am not sure if it's a good thing or not because I'm a bit too far removed to make a judgment.

But I wouldn't have missed playing 'spin the bottle' or 'sardine' in the local hen pen, and come to think of it I learnt some of my best communicating skills in the old potting shed.

Till next week...