April brings, if not so many showers lately, then seeds to be sown – and I’ll get to them any day now, really I will: Dahlia seeds and all sorts, lamenting the cold spell we’ve been having, have taken to asking me confidentially, wouldn’t I rather sow them in pots on a nice warm windowsill instead?

It also brings digging to be done and roses to be planted – old roses, nice old roses, good old roses with fine-sounding names – like Gloire de Dijon (a golden apricot-yellow climber) and Star of Waltham (a rich open red).

It brings pots and seed trays and things that need washing (I’m getting there, I’m getting there).

It did bring weeding to be done, but I’m mainly ahead of you there – you see I have not been idle! (Or was that March?)

It brings rising sap, budding blossom and leaf, and the feeling that there’s so much I want to do. I may still be looking for the spring in my step (a-ha-ha-ha-ha) – I’m sure I had it here somewhere – but the sun shines here and there, melting the night’s frost and gladdening the hearts not just of the singing birds, but of those who like to listen to them.

Even if what they’re singing is “Why are you still abed? Up and at ’em – I don’t care if it’s Saaaturrrrdaaaay!” (Robins are such show-offs for the big crescendos – God bless ’em.)

What have you got that still needs to be done? What does the spring bring you that you’d like to do? (Answers on a postcard, or a comment: Sit down, sit down – the kettle’s just boiled …)