In Stratford, we're having Fool's Spring Mk II, with sunny skies and balmy breezes. Any day now we're due for the massive dump of snow that means this is Ontario, dammit, and winter's not over, and we should not even think about changing our tires or taking the snow brush out of the boot of the car.

But I just spotted Ma and Pa Cardinal, residents of my back hedge, hopping around the yard apparently picking up twigs. And the sun is definitely yellower and higher and altogether more springy with every passing day.

Yesterday I told the concert choir president that I want to get off the Executive Committee -- no more board minutes or drafting contracts for this little black duck. I will continue to take care of the music library because, well, because it's a mess and I haven't finished tidying it up yet.

I seem to have spent the better part of the winter in a funk of anxiety over decluttering and moving house. This is not coincidence: whenever light levels get low, I will find something to fret about, and I'm capable of making myself really miserable. This week, I feel markedly better and -- amazing! -- suddenly the house issue is much less pressing and I can even think about something else.