It may be April Fools Day but it’s turned out nice. Warm and sunshiney.

I have just spent a chunk of time in the garden, spring cleaning, while the girlie has been spring cleaning inside. Very pleasant and mellow.

In another couple of hours we will have our final performance in the bag, done and dusted - and this one is being filmed, oh the pressure!

So then I have to learn lines for the next. Plus Morris events.

Only another month and then I have another jolly to go on. To Madrid this time. After that, Paris, and then possibly Dartmouth and of course Edinburgh in the summer. And I really want to find a window to get out to Almeria to see my auntie but there just doesn’t seem to be enough hours in the day, days in the week, weeks in the month, months in the year. It’s already April and I feel like I’ve only just swept the last bit of tinsel from my hair.

Tempus fugit an all that. Trouble is it seems to fugit way too quickly as you get older. Before you know it you are wizened and crinkly. I having a worrying feeling in my hip lately and I keep thinking ‘for goodness sake please let me get the hang of dancing before my joints pack up’ otherwise my sticks won’t be for clashing, they’ll be for keeping me upright.

I think I’ll shuffle off now and get my zimmer ready. Poor old soul!