April 8: Things to be happy about

Hooray. The whiffy painter has gone. Think she must have thought the candles and incense sticks and wide-open windows were for the paint fumes as she never did say anything. Didn't think that one through, did I. I should have just come clean and said - 'No luv, wot it is, see, is it's you. You stink, innit. Fags make you stink, innit.'

Double hooray. Spring is here, at last! Scrap that. Summer is here. A Mediterranean glorious heat-wave has arrived. Outside my little house, it is blazing. It is so so hot, I could literally strip down to my underpants, flash my (sagging boobs), big snake-like scar and bulging bump and lie on the pavement for all to see. I'm aware this might mean I'm arrested. Or quarantined. Or something.
The way my house is positioned, I get sun in the morning out the back, then it swings round to hit the front of the house in the afternoon, where I have no garden. I think this must be why neighbours in the olden-days were friends. They were all out catching rays on their doorsteps.
I'm so relieved the sun is here. Winter this year has been just horrendous. It has lasted longer than I can possibly remember. Longer than purgatory. Longer than pregnancy. Last night, I went for a (very gentle!.. don't call the police on me... or worse, my mother) bike ride, through glorious fresh-shoot grass, past bobbing daffs, past budding blue-bells. (I'm so horrendously slow, a 90-year-old could probably walk quicker but it means I have time to take it all in). I want to go again today, maximise life before Bump arrives. I'm already looking at the clock. Work is quite quiet at the moment, all election-centric. Not much call for me to write 400 words on why we all love JLS. I suppose I can always keep my phone on... I'm sure I'll hear it while Bump and I are whizzing through the trees....