Monday 15th April 2013

And so, without any fanfare, spring arrived sometime on Sunday afternoon. The clouds parted, the sun shone, the birds sang and I sat indoors and watched football. Hey, it’s that time of year. It was the FA Cup semi-final, and Manc Citeh beat Chelski in an end to end game where it was exciting, but neither side seemed capable of keeping possession for more than five passes. Anyway, at the risk of being accused of being a party pooper as we were treated to an end to end game and one that deserved another 30 minutes extra time, it mostly kept me awake, even if I had to lay in an uncomfortable position to keep my eyes open.



On this fine Monday morning, the sun is still shining, the wind has dropped and I am waiting for a guy to come on like so he can train me in the black arts of SAP; don’t ask. And at three I begin the trip back to Denmark and the not-so frozen north. As I hope spring has arrived there too. The weekend was filled with more Thatcher puff pieces; was she/wasn’t she evil and the such like. In the end it don’t matter a hill o’ beans as nothing is going to change our memories, no matter how many time The Sun or the Mail tries. And the BBC tries to cover both POV and gets called a leftie mouthpiece. So it goes, so it goes.



She is being buried on Wednesday, and I will be away; just as well as I can immerse myself in work and avoid the BBC world news channel in the hotel, all with be fine and there will be no gnashing of teeth.

The weekend was rather a quiet one: I worked from home on Friday, which was rather nice with just the cats pestering me for food and/or affection. I managed to squeeze in time to make a bbatch of saffron buns too, which were ready just as Jools came home, and their delicious smell meant that an instant tasting was required so that evening’s work out got cancelled. Cancelled due to buns.



As usual.

Saturday morning, and we were up with the larks, the late rising larks at half seven, and after a coffee I went to the spare room, dusted down the cross trainer and did half an hour. I did another session on Sunday and much to my surprise did another half an hour this morning too. So, three days away and back on Friday for more pumping of lard.

So, I managed to fill Saturday with stuff, which may have included photography editing stuff and listening to the radio and a mid-afternoon snooze on the sofa. So by Saturday evening I was well rested. Jools had been out for a bead class, and the fact that it poured with rain all afternoon meant that there was no point in going out with camera. That would wait until Sunday. City defended well, but were undone by some suspect refereeing decisions and lost three goals in the final 10 minutes to slump to yet another defeat 3-1 to the Arse. There's always next week....



On Sunday, spring was due to arrive. The weather forecasters had been shouting about it all week, and yet it didn’t feel that warm, not at first. East Kent was shrouded in cloud, and we put of our walk until after lunch just to give the sun time to break through. In the end we just walked our usual route, turning back at the pigs. But it did give us chance to try out our new wellies. Which were waterproof and almost impossible to get off. Oh yes, that’s why we hate wellies……



And once I sat down for the afternoon of football, the sun came out. Bugger. So, I sat inside whilst it warmed up outside. The countryside does seem to be waking up; the hedgerows have signs of new growth and we saw a butterfly on the way back from the walk, but he did not settle so we just watched. Our garden also is walking up, and soon will be a riot of colour, we hope and winter will be a distant memory…..

So, until Friday, its goodnight from me.