Sheer Heaven

The heating didn't go on at all yesterday, and only briefly in the kitchen this morning, and the poor near-empty oil tank heaved a sigh of relief. I can't get a refill before 19th April, two whole weeks away, so am rationing my use. How half a tank vanished in just over two months is beyond me, though the extra cold weather might have had something to do with it. Anyway, the point is that the weather was warm and heating wasn't necessary, which was a twofold joy. We even went to the college grounds in the morning for a run, and walked the whole way around which tired out Hugo more than me. I had a lovely potter in the garden with the rake and a bucket for the twigs and leaves left over from the winter tempests, and was almost reluctant to go out. But actually nothing would have stopped me. It was my third chance to see Verdi's Macbeth, this time live from Covent Garden, and it was a masterpiece. Anna Netrebko! Is she human? Magnificent, she was, and so were all the others. I love the opera, my favourite Verdi. But when I found a clip from her performance at the NY Met last year and played it, Hugo rolled over in his bed and put his paws over his ears. Peasant! Next year the ROH are doing La Forza del Destina which I haven't seen for years. The date is in my diary.

Today has been so hot I had to wear a sun hat and put protection on my lips. So much got done. I raked the drive of more winter twigs and leaves, started draining the pond with the electric pump, lifted out all the pots of plants, and mowed the lawn. David spent the afternoon here pruning my Graham Thomas rose which had got out of hand. He's made some trellis suggestions which I shall follow. When he'd sheathed his pruning shears we sat on the bench by the pond in very hot sunshine and drank tea. What a contrast to the weekend, and what hope it offers that spring has finally come. Along the lanes there are abundant primroses, and I was tempted to crouch down and smell a particularly exuberant bunch despite not being sure how I'd get up again. Hugo finally knocked the lump of furry skin off his torn nose with no obvious tearing or bleeding. The vet rang yesterday to see how he was progressing, but hopefully now it can heal without more medical intervention. He's followed me around the garden like Monty's Nigel, dear little fellow.  He loves this weather. Another thing we have in common.