06/04/2026
Spring. A single word that inspires and invigorates us all.
Each day brings something new to admire in the garden, whether it’s the faint hint of green on leaves just about to burst, or the delicate powder-blue petals of the forget-me-not. Bluebells are beginning to sprout, and the lilac blooms, still tightly closed, seem to swell more by the minute, quietly promising their fragrance in the days ahead.
The birdsong in the early morning is as uplifting as it gets… and then comes that irresistible urge to clean, to paint, to refresh and begin again. Windows are thrown open, sunlight is sprinkled across the floors, and the whole house seems to breathe.
My sweet old quilts, used daily throughout the winter, are finally given an outing. They sway gently on the newly made clothesline, lovingly crafted by The Man, catching the soft warmth of the sun and the light spring breeze.
By evening, I fall into bed happily exhausted, the kind of tired that comes from a day well spent. And yet, come morning, I wake early once more, full of energy, full of anticipation, eager to begin again with a cup of tea in hand, of course.
Spring, a season of renewal, hope, and irrepressible joy. Feeling thankful hardly seems enough.
And so I linger a little longer in these moments, the light stretching into the evening, the air still cool but perfect to stroll through the garden with a blanket around my shoulders. I wander slowly and make a new to do list in my head and feel completely and utterly content. ♥️
