guineapigmum

It’s a beautiful spring morning although cold and the pond is covered with a thick layer of ice.  The frog spawn doesn’t seem to mind, though.  I’ve just been hanging out the washing before settling down to what promises to be some frustrating and deadly data entry and had a quick check on the garden.  Daffodils, primroses, cowslips, primulas in flower.  The forsythia is looking glorious for the first time for a few years.  The Clematis montana which blew down during a winter gale seems uncertain about the benefits of hanging on to life, never mind the wall.  There are a couple of buds so all is not lost, but it should be well in leaf by now.  I’m itching to spend some real time out in the garden, unfortunately a distinct possibility this year as there doesn’t seem to be much work on the horizon after the present pile and the imminent financial year end.  However things do have a way of turning up when least expected, so it’s a bit soon to contemplate early retirement.

Meanwhile, the cat went outside yesterday evening for the first time in several weeks, limping but finally using all four paws at least sporadically.  She’s on the mend so let’s hope that Friday’s visit to the vet will be the last for a while.  Life otherwise is much as normal; the bathroom isn’t finished, we haven’t bought a house, the hoovering always needs doing, my ironing exists as a non-eroding mountain, GP1 continues to wonder what revision might involve, I still need to go to Wales next week and the promised/threatened trip to Libya remains in limbo.  Except of course Limbo doesn’t exist anymore, does it?  Oh, and we still haven’t found that missing toe…