Today, and last week.

'Winter's Gibbit', taken last week.

I'm glad last week is over. It wasn't a dreadful week, in fact, looking back, I'm not really sure what my problem is with it. I think I perhaps had high expectations of myself and the week, and neither of us delivered. Aside from finishing the spring clean, and a few other problems that were anticipated, the week was unremarkable: that's why I wasn't keen on it. It was supposed to be a little more remarkable than it was. High expectations, you see.

But today so far has been good. I didn't expect anything from it, and have made no plans for it, but so far it's been a perfect spring day. I suppose it began last night - I stayed up quite late chatting to my old English Lit teacher from high school (the wonders of Facebook!). We talked a lot about a million books: Chaucer is one of her favourites, so we talked about our favourite characters as well. By the time I went to bed, it was getting light and I slept with the window open listening to the dawn chorus. There was ground frost, so I was huddled up under the quilt with the electric blanket on, wondering if when I woke up the frost would have gone. I didn't think for a second today would be the hottest day of the year.

The trees are almost all budding, and the ones have branches that look like skeletons, with their hands stretched out to each other. The sunlight bleaches them, branches are the lightest grey. There's blossom here, too, and lots of flowers. It's beginning to smell like summer - soft, and sweet. I've been up since eight o'clock, and we had our breakfast in the garden with Trotwood in his cage next to me. All morning, I've been practising the Greek alphabet (making good progress), then at lunch time I did the first day of the 30 Day Shred (and was most excited about not having to take a break, even though now I'm very very sore!). After that, and after lunch, I sat out in the garden a little while longer, then came in because I worried it was too hot for Trotwood, plus there was a buzzard circling ahead and it was frightening him.

And now, it's nearly 4 o' clock, and I can't believe how time has flown. I'm reluctant to make any plans today, I feel like it would curse the day! I'm reading Love in the Time of Cholera, drinking shandy, and thinking about finishing my post on The General Prologue. It would be good to do that today, but we'll see. Trotwood's having flight time in the study, and if in a few hours it's still warm, I'll take him back outside and read there, in which case I'll write tonight on Chaucer.

There's not a cloud in the sky, so perhaps that's likely. I don't know, I have no plans and no expectations of this week. It's working well :)