I had started a post about how much I loved gardens in the spring.

And then Darkness came and stared at me meaningfully.

Darkness has had diarrhoea—again—every day for the last four days.*  It had been the sudden mid-afternoon eruption schedule:  this afternoon’s eruption didn’t happen so I was stupid enough to think that was hopeful—since the hellhounds’ digestion has never made any sense, it’s always just living from one crap to the next.  And then tonight we moved into the multiple-geysering-across-Hampshire-at-the-hurtle stage.

I’m not in a good mood.**

* * *

* After a nightmarish fortnight about a month ago with both the hellhounds streaming constantly . . . what the bleeding doodah happens in March:  it was last March when everything went horribly, horribly wrong . . . I thought we had settled down again.  No.  No.

** Also:  hysterical.  I do need to be able to leave home for more than an hour at a time occasionally.  Samaritans training begins next week, for example.