Sunshine again

I could see that today was set to be a good day when I was finally able to mop the hall. Now that might not seem much of a happy-making thing, but the hall has been full of plasterboard since July, so today was indeed a red-letter day. Of course, that does not mean that the hall is clear of stuff, or even clean of dirt - there are many tools still lurking in dark corners (and a cast iron stove that is too heavy to contemplate moving again until we can figure out which chimney is in the best state to accept it) and layers of plaster dust and plaster to mop, scrape and scour off the tiles. But it's a start. And looking round I realise that our hall is way bigger than the first flat we lived in together in London. So something's moving in the right direction. Mind you, our entire house is worth probably a third what that flat is now worth... And it's not so handy for that terribly nice deli on Westbourne Grove.

Katherine had a friend over today, and I barely saw them all afternoon - which is just the way I like playdates. They played in her room, then outside, then back in her room. In fact I went in and badgered them to have a snack so I didn't feel like such a neglectful parent. While they kept each other busy, Conor was playing* with one of our neighbours so I got on with the garden. The sunny weather had brought out all the birds, and my friendly robin (above) followed me closely checking on what I was up to. To encourage him to try out the bird table I picked some seed off it and threw it in his direction. He ate some of it, but doesn't seem to have made the mental leap (or the physical leap) from there to the table itself.

After a couple of hours of backbreaking work clearing a bed (I broke a spade on a different bed the other day and nearly did for the fork too so I was down to a trowel today) I had cleared one square metre. Sigh. Only another ten to go... But if I get more of this sunny weather I'm happy to do it: working with the sun on your back and the birds chirping around you is no hardship at all (might not say that tomorrow when I can't get out of bed for aching muscles).

In other news: Steak and mushroom pie. Gorgeous. Mr B has confessed that he prefers flaky pastry. So that's my next pie sorted: steak and ale pie.

*EDIT: playing turned into war when they devised a game involving sticks and old tiles they found round the corner, a sort of dodge ball/cricket combination. First I knew of it was the girls rushing back to the house with some kind of garbled message about injuries. Then Conor arrived with blood pouring from his mouth, and his friend clutching his eye and screaming... All is fine: the eye is not injured, the face will heal (though with a scar I think), apologies were exchanged and hands shook, and lessons have (I hope) been learned about daft games.