Snowdrops are king at home, despite the rain falling in Biblical proportions

One job this week is to stop the Macnaughties trampling the snowdrops. Great carpets of white lines either side of the drive. They come up year after year and never fail to cheer.

God bless the man or woman who planted the first tiny bulb all those years ago.

At walkies time we amble down said avenue, and try to keep everyone under some sort of control.

When it comes to garden etiquette the Norfolk terrier and the spaniel are not too much of a problem these days.

After all, the former is a lightweight while the latter moves so slowly he can easily be grabbed and steered to safer ground.

No, the main culprit this year is Delilah. No longer a puppy, the chow chow has grown into a hefty hound, bouncy exuberance and lion-like paws crushing all in her path.

No-one must stand on the snowdrops, because these flowers are a sign of hope. And we all need a bit of that at the moment, don’t we?

It is not the just the rules and regulations that seems to have no end. Spring may be sprung but the rain is relentless.

Heading across to the Scottish Borders – and before you report me, news gatherers are classed as key workers – the car battles its way along roads awash with water.

In the town of Hawick, we are filming work on what will be Scotland’s most ambitious flood defences.

This is a scheme to build mighty walls through five kilometres of the town.

Construction started last year, and the hope is that by 2023 the raging River Teviot may be tamed and a thousand properties will be safe.

Flooding is an awful experience.

Living on a flood plain must be a real worry these days. Yet even a hill may not be able to save you.

I once resided in a house high up the valley, and woke in the early hours to hear the sound of rushing water.

Venturing gingerly downstairs, I reached the hall to step into four inches of the stuff. Quite a shock at four o’clock on a cold winter’s day.

Four inches, the result of a burst pipe, can do a lot of damage as the large skip that arrived gave testimony to.

But back to Hawick, where we interview the project manager and the artist whose work will adorn the glass panels that will eventually sit in the wall.

All this recording is done outside with strict social distancing.

No handshakes, masks worn until cameras roll.

Even signing an interview release form is tricky. All that admin must be done later and digitally.

It is a strange way to make a news film. Then it is better than not being able to make anything at all.

Back at home, meanwhile, Gallanthus survives the deluge. The snowdrop is king. Indeed, I hear that one rare bulb recently sold for over a thousand pounds.

Sadly, it was not like the common or garden ones down our drive.

NO ONE MUST STAND ON THE SNOWDROPS BECAUSE THESE FLOWERS ARE A SIGN OF HOPE

The snowdrops at Fiona’s home are thriving.