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Spring is ......... where, exactly?

Well, today is the 13th, Elisabet is safely returned from the delayed visit to Sweden, where she had to dig out her skis. These last saw the light of day, and felt the cold, about 15 years ago. The near metre depth of snow in the countryside around her mothers house led to desperate measures, and a reminder that skis will move both forwards and backwards if one is not careful. One fall, however, and all seemed to come flooding back.

Yesterday it snowed here. Again. Or rather, there was sleet falling pretty steadily for much of the day, variation coming when it changed to steady rain. Delightful. I can report, however, that both damaged ceilings are on the way to full recovery and that work on the shower room will start next week. Much, much better. Also, the poetry part of the OU course has come to an end - heaven alone knows what will be made of the submissions I made, but it is done, it need never be done again and that is just fine in my book. I love poetry, especially listening to poets reading their own work. I have never wanted to write a poem and having read the guidance given I am more bewildered and frustrated than previously, and wish to write poetry even less. That must be quite an outcome for the OU, but I very much doubt if I am the only one in this position.

Not a lot else to report really. This show at The LIne has had some marvellous work by Laura Hudson and Lucy Newton and I shall miss it when it all comes to an end on Tuesday. But, by Saturday we will have installed All things bright and beautiful and the cycle will have started all over again.

Round about now Scotland and England are playing in the 6 Nations. Is it any wonder there is a feeling of gloom around? Oh, for a miracle ...... Just a little one would be good.

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