Nature Has It.

Something to aspire to!

 The sun shines, people start to wear clothing that borders on inappropriate to the English eye and the air is filled with a general haze of optimism. No wonder flowers choose to bust out of their sleeping bags and attempt to tackle even the most jaded of passers-by with some happiness at this time of year. May is a month where you want to commit to all things positive and regardless of the random nature of Britain' weather patterns, put a stake in your window-box and say, "Bring me sunshine".
 After a barren period of about six months my window box (I think the first acquisition on buying our house seven years ago - "no, we don't have any chairs, tables, rugs or curtains  but we look good from the outside!" ?) has just been resuscitated once again. I'm quite good at this. It involves a great deal of enthusiasm with some bulbs in early spring or a trip to the garden centre yesterday. Then I say five Hail Marys and an Our Father before chucking a bit of Holy Water at it and hoping for the best. "You're on your own now partner, let's hope you aren't too needy."
 This year The Box is sporting a random meadow like look, no contrived matchy-matchy stuff here. You can't go wrong with doing a bit of blind shopping when it comes to plants. In fact, in my humble opinion, the more colourblind you are the better your harvest will be - well, for others anyway. Nature can match any of it's rainbow of colours together and never make a pig' ear of the assembled cast. So mine is big, colourful and ... a bit odd. How long will they last, the happy colourful family of flowers out front? Only nature can tell but I sure do love 'em right now.

Onwards and upwards lads.

The security team .

Lady Time.

The Toilet of Venus
Even she had to wrestle her little cherubs out.

 Spending a penny. Having a tinkle. Off to the powder room. Whatever way you dress it, toilet action should be a solo mission (unless of course you are post nappies but pre-school and the freedom to yell "I've done a poo!" whilst waiting, bum up, hands down, for the lucky parent to tidy one up, is of benefit to all parties involved). 
 It is a hazy memory now since I've partaken in a lavatory trip sans children. "A door - closed? A lock? Why? Must investigate. Will interrogate. By the way, now I have you at eye-level and looking somewhat vulnerable with your trousers around your ankles, I am going to embark on a discussion of all things weird that inhabit my brain. And when you repeatedly ask me to go away, I will only do so slowly, whilst attempting to slide backwards along the floor, continuing my monologue which has side-stepped into my imagining life as a komodo dragon." ???? Yes, that's normal toilet visiting for me. But things are about to change.
 Having gone to a car boot sale in Norfolk at the weekend, I came across a gorgeous little door knocker.Kids or no kids, I would have bought it but as to where it would go, the gig-style audience of our lavatory dictated the answer. My boys love a novelty and while it may not last for long, the idea of a few loo visits where no-one can enter unless cordially invited has meant the toilet door has it. And it looks good.

                  "Knock,knock - can I come in?"
                  "No."
Genius!