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Breaking the soil, blue/yellow and teatime.

1. While I wait, I rake a weeding knife along the narrow space behind the railings and raise the scent of springtime soil.  2. Along the path, blue drifts of early forget-me-nots set off the yellow of a few late daffodils. 3. A mug of hot tea and a couple of hours free on a Sunday afternoon.

Little flowers, adolescence and end of the evening.

1. As proud as Cornelia Graccha, I photograph the lawn daisies and dog violets that grow in my garden. 2. I see my son's hands are now larger than mine, and I wonder who stole away my baby. 3. Tipping threads and slivers of felt off the cutting mat and into the bin.

In the sun, wisteria and rout.

1. Just to stand in the sun and feel warm. 2. I can smell the weight of the wisteria blooms hanging from bare grey branches on the wall round the corner. 3. Three adventurers down, one swaying, and the goblins keep summoning more wargs and now this big blood spattered fella with a beard and plaits has appeared... Oh! That's the druid we were trying to rescue, and the goblins are running away.

Geese, an evening in the kitchen and caramel.

1. When I open the window first thing, I hear geese in flight honking to each other. 2. Clear bubbles are rising in my pan of sugar, Neil Martin is chatting with a Dubliners tribute act and Nick is spotting planets through the open back door. 3. After all that careful mixing of boiling sugar and cooling and measuring, yes, I can taste caramel in the finished cake.

Tadpoles, knock and reflected light.

1. The shallow sunny part of the pond is now alive alive alive with tadpoles -- so numerous and so wriggly that we can hear them. 2. Out of sight, a woodpecker knocks. 3. After supper, I go down to do the bins in the alley along the bottom of the row. I'm startled to a halt by reflected sunlight bounced by a window that I can't see on to a wall that is normally only lit briefly at sunrise.

Birdsong, violets and enough.

1. We are not even 100m from an A-road and birdsong is the main sound -- chipping and cooing and trilling and chiffing and chaffing and the ratchetting call of the magpie. 2. Violets on a woodland bank, blinking in the harsh April sun. 3. We have eaten enough chocolate and now we are cheerfully tired of it.

Foolery, asparagus and small screens.

1. There is a lot of playful April foolery on social media. Some of the brands and organisations seem to be reaching towards a better world where otters trained in water rescue support the emergency services; while others are just looking for chaos (the Macquarie comma and Aldi's law arm, Legaldi).  2. Nick brings me a bag of asparagus, even though no one else likes it. I have some spears, cooked briefly to a bright clear green, with my lunch. 3. Sitting up in bed, tablet between us, to watch NASA's rocket launch. The BBC commentator says it's taller than the Elizabeth Tower that holds Big Ben. That's hard to hold that in mind as Integrity dwindles to a dot in the blue sky.