Plastered

Photos from a visit to Wells, England's smallest city. Spring was in the air, blossom, bird song, people already wearing shorts, you know how it is. I have to be prised out of my coat at the end of May. I'd love to be one of those people who can swan around in a t-shirt in April without a care in the world, but try as I might it just isn't me. I am not a hardy soul.

Some of you had questions about the news items from last time. The fatberg was sent to a plant to be converted into electricity. Apparently you can also turn them into biodiesel. The duckling thing works like this (I think). Fertilised birds' eggs don't start developing until momma bird starts incubating them. So she can lay an egg and go out for the day, leaving it all cold and alone in its nest. Then next day she might lay another one, and off she goes again. And on and on until she has all the eggs ready. Then she sits down and stays on the nest and they warm up and off they go.

So the fertile supermarket egg waits happily in its box until a boy with an incubator comes along and pops it in to warm. Then he keeps it constantly warm and turns it five times a day and in a month or so, bingo, duckling. So no need to worry that you're going to crack an egg and a duckling will drop out into your cake mixture.

The Easter hols have started in fine style. The littlest boy fell off of his scooter and took (another) chunk out of his leg. He is fundamentally opposed to plasters, so I persuaded him that the thing I had was a dressing and not a plaster at all. It is some sort of new-fangled thing, which I stuck on without properly reading the instructions first. It is oddly sticky over its entire surface, which doesn't bode well if it needs to be peeled off. And it's the peeling off part that he's fundamentally opposed to. And he's also slightly allergic to some plasters. So I am rather wishing I hadn't slapped it on now. I can't see it ending well.

The day was a whirlwind of bikes and scooters and boys and food preparation and laundry and dog walking and I am sat here thinking, blimey, that was only day 1. You'd think I'd be used to it by now, but somehow it always seems a bit daunting at the beginning. And then at the end I'm always wishing it would go on for longer.

I am working up to a craft project - one of those nice noticeboard things. I'll let you know how it goes. I tried some crochet the other day. You will remember the ball of wool that was sitting on the shelf. Well, I decided it would look nice as a scarf in one of those lovely ripple patterns. I wrote down the instructions and off I went.

Sigh. It is obviously not supposed to look like this. I have zero patience for fiddly things that go wrong, so it has all been wound back up and I am sulking. Everyone else makes it look so easy.

Hope all is well with you. Any good plans?