Furrowed

Like my brow.

A perfectly ploughed field, yet, another sure sign that winter's gone, spring's here, Easter's coming and the Christmas trees will soon be back in the shops.

Took a 2nd gear automobile daunder along some of the back roads of the 'beautiful plains' (that's what the Dutch called this, we just call it Skinflats) amongst the dog walkers and cyclists. Just good to escape into fresh air after another fabulously frantic yet unproductive day - I'm sure the effects of last week's super moon are lingering like a bad smell around the workplace and causing no small amount of lunarcy (actually, the sink in our workroom's backing up something awful, is far from fragrant and, as yours truly has the desk nearest to it, there's a regular whiff of something nasty in the atmosphere).

Still, there's a penny coming of a litre of unleaded so things are certainly on the up, get the flags out, it's time to party. Oh, hang on, there's 4 going on a pint of beer and 15 on a bottle of wine. Cancel that party.