The Little Boy Next Door is cycling his trike up and down outside our front door singing "In and out the dusty bluebells". After the sixth verse I get up from the sofa and go to say hello. I tell him that I used to sing the same song when I was a little girl at school. The effort of imagining me as a little girl is too great for him so he cycles around in a circle a couple of times. Then he says "I decided to sing it until you came out to see me" and I am relieved that I gave in after only six verses. The hedgerows are full of campion and buttercups now but you can still find bluebells in the woods beside the stream .