This week has been dominated by preparing a chunk of dissertation for handing in. And then by a cold. It has not been a very pleasant sort of week.

On the other hand, the clocks going forward this morning mean that it is now, officially, British Summer Time. Even the weather agrees.

It’s also Mothering Sunday, which apparently means that I deserve expensive chocolates. If Tiny doesn’t get to them first, of course. It’s also a break in the Lenten fast, if you’re keeping one (I’m not, this year). Traditionally, it’s when the delicious marzipan-filled Simnel cake is made. There aren’t enough in our household who like it to make making one worthwhile, sadly. Tiny and I would give it a good go, though.

But now is the time when M and I are going to start turning our attention the yard, and how best to turn it into a garden. Currently it is a bare concrete space. Not a good playing space for Tiny or growing space for M. It will probably be a slow transformation, though. But satisfying. Cathartic, even, breaking up the concrete.