Easter Sunday was a loose-limbed kind of day without a definitive start, end or purpose, a bit like last week’s writing, just plenty of sitting and reading.

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We walked Bella as the cloud lifted, the sun warmed our faces and we played the ‘Yep, I’ve definitely got too many layers on again’ game. Back home I drift in and out of the house. I worked Good Friday and Saturday afternoons, congregants from Christchurch on The Grove handing out hot cross buns to shoppers and passers-by, me included.

Easter Sunday though I spent mostly moving around the garden with a succession of mugs of tea and Ron Rash’s The Caretaker. A new to me author thanks to Mel from Griffin Books in Penarth, a recommendation in passing when I was there the other week.

By the time we get back from our walk Easter eggs have been claimed from the lucky dip line up I left on the kitchen side. I send Easter egg money to the oldest who’s stayed in Newcastle. He’s done enough train travel these past few weeks with a camera in hand and he too needs to be in his home.

This time last year he was a month away from handing in his final university assignment and starting this job. This April he’s been in Aberdeen, Glasgow and London filming for Torvill & Dean’s Last Dance, editing for the London Landmark’s Half Marathon and the Junior Boat Race.

His head is just about catching up with his body.

Middle child is home from university, spending most of his time out with friends. He’s home on Easter Sunday though watching TV in between asking if we’ll be his proxy vote in the May local elections and searching for food.

Andy heads off to do some beekeeping with a friend mid-afternoon. He’s completed his beekeeping course, built a hive and is amassing kit including his beekeeping suit. No bees yet though.