However, this year I went home the week before Easter, for Mum's birthday. On the last day, whilst rolling my suitcase to the railway station, I passed a shop selling Easter feathers.
It was then I had THE IDEA.
As birch trees are far and few between in England, I had to make do with what I could find in the garden. So far, I have had no complaints from the neighbours, but I'm pretty sure they were wondering what they were looking at, that Good Friday morning. Oh well.