It’s raining and grey in Stratford today, but yesterday was glorious — perfect for yard work, so I did some and then burned a heap of winter deadfall from the damnable silver maple trees.

Tree sex is an issue for me this year, as I have become allergic to their pollen. Consequently, I am living better through biochemistry while fighting back the inevitable sinus headache. I swear it takes at least twenty percent off the top of my personality.

The house is tidy, if a bit dusty, and all the laundry is done and stowed. The basement is clearer, thanks to a Mennonite friend who relieved me of some four dozen large Mason jars of three different sizes. The TV and its peripherals are finally established in the parlour in a purpose-built cabinet that keeps all the copious wiring under control, out of sight, and away from the cats.

The next challenge is spring-cleaning the garage. That’ll end in a trip to the dump! What larks.