Now it's about to flower the rhubarb stalk doesn't look quite so threatening, and is actually very delicately coloured. It's not good for the plant to let it go to seed, though, so best to behead it. If I had the room I think rhubarb left to flower in the garden might be quite impressive. Got to get rid of the butterburr first, you can't even eat that stuff.
Dare I mention the sun is out at the moment? Which means washing on the line, most satisfactory.
The heating has remained off and I've started a meter reading diary. Tragic hobby, I know; I just want to get a grip of the bills and outgoings in general. I keep wondering how the inhabitants of this house coped when it was first built in the late Victorian period.
There's a grate in almost every room but even then I suspect it was on the chilly side. Open fires are lovely but a good half the heat goes straight up the chimney. No wonder ladies wore bonnets, shawls and mittens indoors. And a lap dog would have been handy as well, a furry hot water bottle.