During last month's 'vague froid', I became aware of a recently acquired need I have developed to check the thermometre. It wasn't good enough for me to know it was cold, I wanted to know just how bloody cold exactly. I think it must be a middle-aged thing, like hoarding sugar and knowing the price of diesel at three different locations. Similarly, this week my eye has been drawn to the mercury again as it rises to ridiculous highs for March. We've been basking in the glorious early twenties and yesterday, it hit 25°! This is great news for our first cabinautes of the season who arrived last weekend and have been lunching and lightly toasting out on the rafts, but it's worrying from a water shortage point of view and for the poor neglected veggie patch. Still, the matter is out of my hands so I will try not to dwell on it, or how Mother Nature might be planning on paying us back later in the year. She's clearly off her rocker at the moment.
So, it's all systems go here - Spring has sprung and there's grass to be mown and brambles tackled before they take over. Still time to sit and admire a primrose or two though..... But wait, is that my bike I see glaring at me, having been ignored all Winter? Oh Lordy, it's going to be so hard getting back into the saddle after months of sloth, so here's a reminder to my complaining thighs and lungs as to why we must love our bicycle!