It is so tempting to talk about the weather, the rain, the floods, the cold - but I won't.
I took a drive to a different part of the county, yesterday.
A surprise birthday tea had been organised, to celebrate a cousin's 80th birthday, in Glentham village hall which is a bit further north and on the other side of the Lincolnshire Wolds.
The hall was pleasantly full, tables were set with starched white cloths, prettily patterned and mismatched china, vast platters of tiny sandwiches, dainty scones, savouries, and lots of homemade cakes.
When the guest of honour arrived she was genuinely surprised to find a large number of her family and friends, plus her art class and writing group waiting for her. Somehow the sixty/seventy people had managed to keep the secret. Even this little chap hadn't blabbed a word of it to his great granny.
He was so proud of his face paint that I had to take a photograph.
It was great fun catching up with everyone. The family line is very complicated so I have given up trying to work out exactly what kind of cousins, etc they all are. Let's just say that for a young woman born in the Victorian era my grandmother must have had quite a strong and resilient character and, despite everything, my grandfather's 'first' family all adored her.
Unfortunately, I never met her, she died a few years before I was born.
Yesterday I could hear the genuine affection in their voices when they spoke of her. How I wish I knew the whole story, but the dots still don't quite meet.
It must remain a mystery.
Poppies are out in full force.
Walks are breathtakingly beautiful, the world is washed and clean.
Everywhere looks as it did before, except for the mud.
