Gone Lid

Spring arrived this morning, and it was impossible to stay indoors. When Hugo went out for a quick comfort break as usual after breakfast he didn't rush back to the door to be let in out of the cold, but stood outside sniffing the air, nose twitching. We walked around the field for the first time in a while, marvelling at the warmth of the sun and the sound of birdsong all around us. It really was a breath of fresh air. Afterwards I had to go into Fram so stopped off to have the car hand washed inside and out. They call it the Silver deal, £15. I stood in a sunny spot to watch, and right away two men got to work. Nearly an hour later, as cars came and went, one man was still polishing every bit of the interior, hoovering the seats and mats and shining the glass. I started to get nervous. "I think they're doing the full valet and I only wanted the Silver" I told another waiting man, who agreed this chap seemed obsessed with my vehicle. In the end I cracked and told him it was just the Silver I asked for. "Yes," he said. "I know." And he grinned at me. Well, I don't know what I did to deserve it but there wasn't a patch of dust, dirt or dog saliva anywhere in the car when he finished and handed over the key. I know I'll never get that level of service again, but what a treat.

Back home, I drove the lawn mower out of the garage where it has been sheltering and reunited it with its cover, rescued by Mark from the bottom of his ditch. It didn't quite make it as far as its usual spot before conking out. I checked for petrol, topped it up a bit, and then couldn't find the lid, nor would the mower start up. I've hunted high and low but it is nowhere to be found. Did Hugo grab it and run off, ready for a game? I don't know. I had to push the mower into its parking place, trying not to splash petrol, and cover it up anyway. It's a mystery. If Hugo knows where it is he's not telling.

We poked around in the garden for a while, me throwing the ball and him flying around trying to stop me getting it back. Several times he flew over the flower beds, as graceful in the air as on the ground. The lawn is looking the worse for wear, studded with holes where urgent little feet have pounded across the earth, but I don't care. Time was when I'd have kept him off until it dried out and hardened up, but not now. It'll be fine, eventually. More importantly we're having fun. Whod a thought it?