I've had the sort of three months you want to expunge from your SparkMemory to be honest. Like nearly everyone in the northern hemisphere, I've endured a cold, late, wet, grey, snowy and miserable spring. Like a lot of people, I've suffered from slippage. Slippage is what it's called when you get behind schedule, often to the point where you throw Plan A out of the window and go for Plan B.
So, I decided yesterday, I'd concentrate on having a sort of clearout (that reminds me, is it TMI if I mention my digestion in this regard? It is? Right, I won't then. Leave it to your imagination) this weekend. Spent yesterday tidying up and sorting out and doing ironing and piles of washing. Delved into the darkest recesses of the fridge and found all the healthy food I haven't eaten because I've been eating Other Things and threw it away because it's gone sort of liquid.
Spent today pottering. I am absolutely, utterly and completely a confirmed potterer. My blogs are a sort of written potter.
I think of pottering as one of the world's great blessings and it's not often I have time to potter properly. Pottering involves getting a lot of small things done without any fixed plan or timescale, painlessly, peacefully and without input from other people. It's what men do in sheds if they have them.
Women tend to do their pottering in the house.
Today I've recharged a large number of batteries (some for clocks that I only noticed had stopped when I went to put them forward an hour), cleaned catsnot from the cat flap and all kinds of gunge from the environs of the catflap, removed dead leaves from indoor plants, soaked some mugs in washing soda to get the tannin stains off them, tidied my jewellery, swapped the reading matter next to my bed (out with the trashy vampire novel, in with something intellectual in French. Hah! We'll see how long I keep up THAT one, eh?) given a decent burial to my purple woolly 'at, shrunk in the wash, alas alas, uploaded a Shakatak album to iPod, tidied my sock drawer (cutting edge stuff this) and removed dead flies from inside the sitting-room lampshade which is shaped like a samosa and collects flies that then can't get out so that any time you look up, there are a couple of small dried out corpses above your head.
I love the lampshade, so I have to put up with the flies, unfortunately.
All the time I've been doing this, I've been putting away odds and sods.
Now, of course, the problem with pottering is evident. You eventually burst into song 'I can see for miles and miles . . .' or 'I can see clearly now the trash has gone' and what I can actually see is catfluff and catpawmarks. Everywhere.
So now it's not about more pottering, it's about cleaning.
I started this blog talking about SparkPeople but somewhere along the way got sidetracked. Oh yes. Tomorrow is 1 April, All Fools Day and it seems an appropriate sort of day to recommit to sparking. The temperature's going to be up to a princely 9C (48F) with sun if we're lucky, so spring may be here if with a whimper rather than a bang, but it's here.
I've noticed an awful lot of absent SparkFriends popping up again recently as well, so it looks as though I'm not the only person who feels like this.
So off we go again. In it to win it.