Half Term Hive Activity

And I'm not talking about bee-hive activity, because rain is tipping down at the moment and bees don't do rain, so the hive is still and quiet, apart from the occasional brave soul who emerges for a peek, and then reverses back in, probably thinking, 'Hmmm, not today thanks. Hurrah for the lovely contact feeder full of sugar solution provided by mine hosts, Lord and Lady Malarkey.'

Bees are very polite, and infinitely sensible when it comes to rain, unlike me who has been trooping in and out to the bin because I am having a spring clean.

Yes, I know it's June, so theoretically Summer, but as us gardeners know, the seasons are three weeks behind themselves this year and so I am still in Spring and that is my excuse. And having been up the allotment for the best part of all yesterday morning, and also being a weirdo keeper of diaries and records, I can confirm that the beans and strawberries are all behind on last year, and the sweetcorn is a WHOLE year and a bit late - because I forgot to plant sweetcorn last year! Aha!

My spring cleaning has been, so far, mostly related to my erstwhile writing room, which has seen little activity in the writing department since I went back to teaching full time in January. This is bad. But given that I am planning to be working only part-time, and the summer hols are a gnat's whisker away, I wanted to spruce up the room and get it ready for action come the third week in July. This is good. Especially as I have started another writing project, a witty tome about being a newbie lady bee-keeper, oddly enough.

Poor writing room has become home to hive building, and as such has accumulated assorted wood-working equipment including a massive work bench which I bang my toes on with alarming frequency every time I try and squeeze past it. So, in a cunning shifty around of various objects, the emptying of cupboards and shelves, the ruthless hoiking out of stuff I forgot I had, ergo don't really need, I have managed to find a hidey hole for the bench, and now all that remains is the fun of seeing if Andy can find it.

Also, I have been up in the loft and done a shifty around of things up there, but only because I am on the look out for some cushion pads, and my aged suitcase of fabrics I have collected across the years, because I am of the urge to be all arty-crafty, and one must go with urges or else run the risk of being nagged by the Ethereal Beings who are trying their darndest to guide you through life, because invariably urges are part of the Universe trying to tell you something of Great Importance.

(I apologise for the length and dodgy grammar of that last sentence - it was very unwieldy, but I'm not going to edit it, as I feel it conveys the sense of fairly organised mayhem, and boundless energy that surrounds me today.)

And talking of Ethereal Beings, I'm now off to do a quick Tarot reading for myself, because I am umming and ahhing about applying for that part-time teaching job. And the deadline is tomorrow, at noon. (Which in itself sounds rather ominous.)

Do I, don't I? Shall I, shan't I?

Lord only knows.