May the Lord deliver us, spring cleaning has begun!

There are times, dear friends, in a mans life when the complexity of the female brain is somewhat baffling. Please do believe me when I say that I am not complaining, dear me no, far from it, for I live in quite the best of splendour. No, dear friends, what perplexes my simple male brain is the marked frenzy of activity know as "the spring clean". Take, for example yesterday; it began well with the usual early rising and ablutions of my male guardian before he took the carriage and spent the day in toil. In ones mind, one envisages a gentle, somnambulist type of day, enjoying the spring sunshine and usual routines,  a stroll through the estate, afternoon tea taken in the garden tucked away from the chill spring wind, and an early light supper before retiring for the day. But, dear friends, what was I thinking! Clearly, I had misread that meaningful glint in my lady guardians eye as she sipped her morning tea, mistaking it for goodness knows what, for it is a specific look of intent that settles there. Oh my, the day that ensued. Windows and doors thrown wide, no corner safe from cool caresses of the bracing spring weather that was enjoyed yestermorn, no stone unturned to brush out the last vestiges of the winter months. Cupboards sorted, floors swept, washed and restored, lines of washing cracking in the brisk wind. Why, my coat was quite ruffled. And so it goes on, for today there is no rest on this special day, being Mothering Sunday. I fear that today brings a repeat and must ensure a place of safe haven for myself. I will, of course, once this frenzy is complete, compliment my lady guardian on her housekeeping for we are fortunate gentlemen, are we not, to be the benefactors, residing as we do in warm, clean, fresh and comfortable homes, presided over by our delightful female loved ones, for which in truth, I am truly grateful. A warm and comfortable home, surrounded by those we love, is quite the best one could wish for, is it not?