Primroses for Easter

Once upon a time, the land on which our house sits must have been a field, or at least somewhere that nurtures wild primroses.

Each year in Spring since we have lived here, they have come shyly into flower. We also have a cowslip plant. We did have one outside the front door before it was mown down before it could set seed.

Not only primroses, but also the daffodils are out to greet Easter. The garden looks transformed when they are flowering having been quite dowdy since the end of last year. Just a couple of flowering shrubs and a magnificent black hellebore.

This photo shows that I should do what I have always done in the past, and lie down on the grass to ensure the shot is in focus. Apologies for that.

George and Kat came for lunch. George had instructed, nay, commanded me to have it cooked by 1 pm. What time did he turn up? 1.30 pm. His excuse was that he'd forgotten about the clocks going forward when in reality he went out on the town with his mate Alex after Jamie Vardy scored his first international goal against Germany yesterday evening. And it was a super goal, I have to agree.

For the first time ever, George was unable to finish his 'sweet.' I'd made a very boozy trifle pouring half a bottle of sherry on to the leftover Madeira cake. I just sloshed it on, and only discovered how much after the cake was swimming in alcohol.

At least there's some trifle left for Len and me to finish now. You don't need much at one sitting.

A couple of showers and then the sun began to show through late this afternoon.

I was pleased that The Night Manager ended with the 'good guy' coming through unscathed and the 'bad guy' getting his just deserts. If only life were like that.

Another tragic suicide bombing today, this time in Lahore, Pakistan. Women and children were the victims.

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