The sun when it appears, lifts my spirits instantly
and I tackle a hundred jobs with gusto.
For the rest of the time,
I am somewhat in a state of suspense.
This summer will bring unwelcome changes
but surely plenty to rejoice in too.
I will return with more tulips and bluebell woods presently
because they must not pass unrecorded.
Speaking of which: we have an abiding love for Victoria Wood. We saw her live at the Royal Albert Hall, and my younger son rather surprisingly learnt to sing all the words to The Ballad of Freda and Barry with a lively piano accompaniment. He saw her only recently enjoying a meal in Borough Market with friends but was too shy to interrupt her.
62? Perhaps I should now read War and Peace as Mary Hobson did. So moved was she, that she started to learn Russian while convalescing age 56, so that she could read the original and then enrolled at the University of London at age 62 and completed her PhD aged 74. She won the Pushkin Gold Medal for translation. Oh and she is now at 89 in training for a 5km run.