It's that time of year again

Spring, that is.  Or as Alfred, Lord Tennyson wrote all those years ago 'In the Spring a young man's fancy turns to thoughts of love.'  Spring with its annual wonders of new little lambs, trees, fields hedgerows, gardens awakening from their winter slumber, already snowdrops, crocuses and daffodils are brightening the place up.

Perhaps in the case of not quite so young men their thoughts turn to a certain mood of foreboding and trepidation as mine have this very morning because without warning the annual round of domestic spring cleaning has begun.  Every room in the house will, in turn, be vacuumed, cleaned, de-cobwebbed, purged of any goods or chattels deemed redundant, obsolete or suffering the minutest trace of damage.  Interference with this ritual is not brooked as it is  viewed in the strongest terms as a 'pink job' with any external influence being unwelcome as it it may detract from the set course of 'clearing out'.

It is the latter objective set by the lady of the house that annually fills me with angst and trepidation.  A year has passed since last the ritual was observed allowing me to arrange personal and important as well as essential  things to my sense of order and convenience resulting in a calm and secure knowledge that I know where things are and can easily be found when needed.  This sense of logic and orderliness is now in the throes of its yearly upheaval, some treasured things may never be seen again should I not be exercise great vigilance in what is potentially being redistributed to the local Red Cross, the rubbish bins or worse the tip.

Once this latest addition to my Blogroll is completed I shall quickly secrete things away in little hiding places where they may gradually be retrieved when needed, all manner of things computer related, books, magazines, special small tools, sundry personal items etc which are essential to a comfortable and well ordered life of a maturer male.

Hopefully this outburst of seasonal domestic activity will be be finished before the Six Nations kicks off again on Saturday afternoon.  Soon some sense of order and calm should be restored allowing life to continue in a form that we know it!  In the meantime it is a case of batten down the hatches, don't panic Mr Mainwaring and steady as she goes bearing a stout heart against adversity ...