I'm desperately trying to grasp those little wisps of Spring. When the sun shines I whisk the kids outside and fluff about in the garden while they spread the contents of their sandpit around the yard.
Being buffered by icy wind between showers we trundle around the neighbourhood and I stealthily snip bits of floral beauty from between the gaps in the fences. Shhh, don't mention it to the neighbours. I'm actually keeping the daphne bush around the corner pruned nicely.
I feel reassured by the certainty these plants display. It feels near snow outside, but flowers defiantly poke their heads out as if to say, don't worry, winter's nearly over. Bringing them indoors keeps the promise close while it's blowing a gale beyond the four walls and chases away that mouldy smell of too many months with the windows and doors shut tight. And creating little windowsill arrangements is such fun (even though my flower arranging leaves a lot to be desired!).
Eskimo chic is giving me the gripes, too. I'm rather over picking out a pretty frock and cardie then covering the lot with a large coat and scarf. My standard, much beloved cowgirl boots the only sensible footwear option. Oh how I long to wear a cute skirt and top without layering the life out of them. Mr Australia Post just delivered some new boots that would be perfect with a Spring frock. All red and shiny and new. Can't wait to wear them.
Must be just about draw-o'clock now...
P.S. Check out the new drawing room shelf in the background...a bit swish.
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