I know this due to the fact that it has been glorious all week and even this weekend. You can always tell when Devon is tottering on the edge of spring, as the sun shines as you plod in the office, and then the heavens open on the weekend.

But now the sun is out, the sky is a deep clear blue and the Pimms has been dusted out from it's winter hidey hole in the cupboard. The birds are swooping in kamakaze style into the garden to get garden waste to build nests with, the cats are moulting left and right, and I have a nose like Rudolf, as the hay fever has kicked in far far worse than any year yet, right in the middle of tidying up the garden for the move. There's a pile of tissues mounting up in the bin next to me as I occassionally blow my nose like a ferry leaving port, and a cold flannel at the ready to stop me gouging out my itchy eyeballs.

But I do love spring!
And I do love this garden

I shall miss it when we leave

Apologies for the absence, but so much gossip, but so little time before bed.

Lets see - there's been cosmos, nights out, makeup slapped on, christenings, bets lost, jobs ending, possible jobs starting, choccies, dinners out without the hosts (but they still paid! ;o) ), family, sick cats (again), exercise, meeting the dentists and and shopping for the most expensive thing ever.

Thats right. Slightly scared Sim. First Time Homeowner. Offer accepted as of 1500 hours today.

You know, I think I may just need a stiff whisky to face the reality of mortgages, wills and finally being a grown up...

Ahh - Easter.

The time for chocolate, bunnies and waking up early thinkning it's a Monday and therefore you should goto work. This of course got the cats hopes up as they saw one of us stir, thiinkng it was time to stuff their heads in troughs and were most displeased to find that I rolled over and tried to get back to sleep. So they took turns. Jumping on me. Near the head, on the legs - the killer jump was the one where the fat cat took a run and jump. Landing smack bang in the centre of the bladder.

And the in-laws were asking about children???

Have you ever written something, then stopped and stared at one word for an age, wondering if you had spelt it correctly?? It sometimes happens to me, but kicked in yesterday. With the word "the".

Working with addresses and Cornish cottage names means you see a lot of "The Hobbit Hole, Cornwall" or "Kernow Kottage, Cornwall", and whilst I winced as I had to deliberately mispell the word cottage as specified, I found myself looking at the same word, whilst next to me, stunner data pixie pondered how to text the word wierd, finding the i before e rule strange and pumping for weird. And as I laughed at "The Wicky Woos Warren Hole", I found myself typing "the" as "theer" as I sneezed thanks to a bloody duvet thief. And for a moment there, as I stared at it, I thought that I was right.

After scrimping around, arguing with the bank and cobbling together our joint life savings in the last week, and hocking ourselves up to the eyeballs in debt to place a cash bid on a dream house

(albeit in a graveyard)

we had an anxious wait - only to find out that we were outbid by out-towners at the last minute.
Damn that Sarah Beany - she has a lot to answer for.

I'm so fed up, I may just crack and break out the gin whilst pouring through the home & auction pages

Sim - You stole the duvet again

Girlpants - Did not! You gave it to me

Sim - I'm now sneezing - by stealing the duvet you've given me a cold

Girlpants - No. Think logically. By taking the duvet you gave me, I've been trying to starve the cold germs of the warmth they crave to survive. I'm only thinking of you...