My house is lovely in the springtime when the sunlight begins to pour through the windows and I'm already forgetting what a hideous icebox it was in winter. I can forgive many things when the sun is shining. Somebody lent me a pair of big lopping shear things and I spent the afternoon hacking away at some horrible overgrown bushes in the garden. It was very satisfying, but now my left arm has gone into some kind of spasm, and I can barely open a jar of Vegemite.
This is not a good omen, as spring fever hits me with an irresistable urge to get stuck into productive household activity. I have made lists of things that must be done, and placed them carefully in every room. What actually happens is that I get over excited and fixate on one thing so much that I burn out and have to lie down. The lists sit there till next spring, gathering dust.