Obviously Spring has arrived. The weekend saw Betty back on the drive. She was given an air and a spruce up too. Olly played in her, while I pottered with seeds in the greenhouse. I had a slight disaster when one of my staging racks decided to collapse, sending sweet pea seedlings all over the shop. Olly came running as the air turned blue, and helped me save as many as we could. He then suggested that I should plant some more, and "be careful next time, Mummy." So wise for one so young.
My bedroom has been given a thorough clean too. I even cleaned the velux windows and light (I haven't cleaned them in over ten years. Don't tell anyone). I ordered Sam and Alfie to clean their rooms too. Alfie did a great job. Sam emptied his bin. Olly's room is on the to do list for tomorrow, and then I tackle the big one; the attic. There is eighteen years worth of crap up there, and I am in ruthless mode.
We gave Betty a run out along the coast road to Cape Cornwall. Alfie was tired from all the cleaning, so stayed behind. Sam did come, and was very lovely to Olly. They made towers of the stones that make up the beach, and threw pebbles into the incoming tide. I sat in a sheltered spot feeling my freckles pop out to say hello, and Marc fell asleep on the slipway.
Another hectic week ensues. Thank you for all your best wishes regarding my lurgy. I can cope with morning sickness, a burst gall bladder and severing the top of my finger. I cannot cope with the common cold. At all. My family are all grateful that it is on the wane. And Olly says thank you for all your happy birthdays. I wonder if turning forty five will feel as good as turning five?