Neer cast a cloot

Till may (or mey?) be oot.

And it's only April. Birds busy on the may blossom, birds singing fit to burst, butterflies fluttering around. Bluebells and wild garlic in abundance. A beautiful spring morning for a walk by the river. Only a stroll really. The garden is calling me but I must make myself do some tedious but essential admin.

I'm not exactly casting a cloot just yet but I'm going to think about retiring my thickest, most winter-ready clothing for a few months.