It’s truly delicious weather here: seventies, sun, everything bright and blooming. The perbs are growing like Jack’s beanstalk. Yesterday we cut some to make a wee bundle to shove in a with roasting chicken:
The whole house smelt like spring: roasting herbs within, lilac without.
Even morning’s (not my favourite) are a delight. We’re woken by birds twittering and flittering about in the bushes by the window—not irritating robins, either (which I think might be the dimmest birds on the planet), but busy little bush tits (which I always have the peculiar urge to stuff in my mouth; I’ve spent too long in the heads of predatory characters…).
Soon I suppose I’ll have to rejoin the world—pay attention to email, catch up with blog posts, and so on. At which point I’ll let everyone know about Hild ARCs. Until then, hey, I hope that wherever you are you’re having a splendid spring.