I know that Spring has arrived.
Shall I tell you how I know? Is it the blossom on the trees outside perhaps, or the tulips and hyacinths in my garden? Perhaps it's the jug of daffodils on the kitchen table, or the steadily increasing hours of daylight each day? Or is it the warmth of the sun and the washing drying outside on the line? No, it's none of those things. It's the dog hair. Molly knows it's spring and she is moulting and oh my goodness, it's everywhere. On the floors, sticking to any damp surface in the bathroom, on the carpets. I had smugly - and stupidly - assumed we had the brilliant luck of choosing a dog that didn't really shed a lot of hair. No, not in the spring it would appear. I sincerely hope this is just a phase as I am sweeping and vacuuming daily and wiping everything in sight down with a damp cloth and going slightly mad. Please tell me it will end!
Dog hair aside, it's all feeling rather lovely and springish out there at the moment. The weather today was glorious and I thoroughly enjoyed my morning walk in the woods with Molly. I came home and hung the washing on the line and sat and drank my coffee with the kitchen door open. I've been buying primulas for the pots on the front door step and have kept a few for the house. They are so pretty. No matter that the rest of the garden is a muddy, disgraceful mess, my front step looks good and so I feel like I'm winning at gardening.
Our weekend was nice. We took it easy and pottered around at home a lot, cooked nice food, watched films in the evening when the kids were in bed. I finally finished Angus's room and took some photos of it yesterday, when it was looking particularly tidy. Thank you all so much for your comments and enthusiasm for this decorating project - I've really enjoyed it and it's been lovely sharing it with you.
I'll leave you with some photos of Molly joyfully tearing around our back garden with her favourite toy hedgehog. It's wonderful to see the playful side of her personality emerge, to see her behaving more like a family pet and less like a confused wild animal.
Also - the state of our grass. I know, I know. Between the greyhound and the football it can no longer be called a lawn, just a patch of savaged earth. But I've got a happy dog and kids that love to be outside in the garden whatever the weather so I don't really care.