Trudging

As in the picture, our foundations are somewhat wonky - we are in the final week of term, and it is one week too long; most schools have already broken up. This winter has seemed interminable, and owing partly to that, ours is not the only family that has staggered from one illness right into the next. I begin to understand why the Scandinavians drink so much in spite of their heinous alcohol tax.

Still, we are expecting some familial visits over Easter - both MIL and DH's brother and wife plus new baby should be here at some point over the weekend. I just hope nobody drowns in the torrential rain on the journey up. And my nose was rubbed further in our bad weather by my father's most recent email, telling me his plans for Semana Santa pretty much were the beach every day.

Mini-Diva's parents' evening is this afternoon, and after our little anxiety hiccup earlier this term, I am expecting for everything to be back on track. She is Key Stage 1 and currently in advance of the targets. Her teacher has also announced her pregnancy, so all the parents no longer have to keep the secret, and Mini-Diva can gift her the baby things I've been making, the last of which is a plain baby cardigan in a multi-colored yarn I've used before:





We had a patch of sunlight last week, so I put Rosie, Mini-Diva's guinea pig, out for a run on the patio for a while. Jewel the rescue cat didn't know quite what to make of her - she looks and smells like prey, but has Attitude, so doesn't behave like prey ...



As you can see, the daffodils are still not out, so I am re-reading Beverley Nichols to re-inspire my enthusiasm for growing things; he is very witty, with a clever use of words, if a little .... purple ... at times. And of course a view of the pre-war world and its ways is fascinating.

I have cast on for a sweater, for the first time for myself ! It is an old pattern that used to be my Mother's, for Wendy Monaco (no longer produced); I have some Patons Flower Garden in the shade 'Freesia', which looks like roughly the same weight, to use instead. And I am ignoring (the pull is far too weak to call it resisting) the very vague nudge towards the kitchen that my friend Alison provides with her new blog, Hestia's Larder. I read it because I like her writing and am eternally curious about how my friends live, but I am not going there. Being a domestic goddess is highly over-rated, in my opinion.