AT last!

The good weather is here and I've dusted off my lawnmower, pulled out the dried rope-like strands of grass choking the blades and discovered there is nothing but petrol fumes at the bottom of the mower's tank.

Never mind.

I managed to hack my way through the jungle that our front and back gardens have become.

It seems so long since we've had a splash of sunshine. It's amazing the impact on one's mood it has.

I found myself whistling as I pottered between shed and lawn, unpicking the spider's webs from my hoe, fork and rake. I've not felt like this about my garden in a long while.

For the past few months, each time I've glimpsed between the curtains my heart has sunk at the sight of the swaying grasses that pass for my garden. I could have sworn the swishing was caused by a passing herd of pachyderms.

Emily's itching to get bouncing on her trampoline and bombing down her slide. Any day now, I tell her.

And this will be Matthew's first summer. He sits outside, greased up in suncream like a cross-Channel swimmer and shaded by a hat that would not look out of place in John Wayne's wardrobe.

Tra la la. I'm off now to sip a cool beer and lounge on my flaking bench.

Really must get the varnish out...