Note the spray-on moss

Sorry, if sorry is called for. It has been a while. The office has been all consuming, slowly chewing me and time for several weeks, and consequently sububman's opportunities to type (some would say stereo-type) a few words have been few and far.

Yet suddenly the mercury rises and the pigeons engage in unspeakable ribaldry on the guttering of the double-fronted semi opposite; the grocery delivery van brings higher quotas of airmiled fruits to the neighbours; the milkman exchanges his wolf family QVC fleece for a light-weave "tennis shirt" that exposes his veal calf arms. Yes, spring arrives in the suburbs.

And here's my first piece of springish handiwork - yes, it's crazy paving suburbman-style (my first ever) with a the stylish embellishment of fragments of willow pattern plate shards. Let it not be said that this suburbamn is lacking in finesse - oh no, here is a man whose aesthetic decisions are worthy of the most discerning of mid-week makeover shows.

Spring has sproinged

Evidence that spring has sprung in the suburbs. These are the flowers that redeem this place to me.

The hatch

Here’s the interior of the shed. Suburbman cognoscenti will be pleased to note the presence of the guitar on the sofa. The shed is draining the house of much of (but not all) its clutter.

Easter (and Spring arrives in the suburbs)

Here's the view from the back of the garden, looking towards the house. We've put a shed in (the orange building with the blue roof) and we're about to embark on a mammoth dig to put a patio in front of it.