Most weekends I wake up the same time as I do on weekdays, which is around 7:30. The sun is well up and hits the living room sofa straight on. It’s warm and cosy and I love sitting in the sun when I read.

I like having the sun on me and around me, but it’s hard to read with it in my face. Until around 8 the sun is low enough that I can hide behind the top of the shade of the thuja. When it gets higher into the sky, I position myself in the shadow of the middle pillar of the French doors. And shuffle along the sofa as the sun moves. When the sun no longer warms most of the sofa, it’s usually time for breakfast anyway.

My cardigan project is still in need of measuring and fitting, and I need to check my pattern notes for my ongoing sock, and I just haven’t like doing either of those. But by now I am completely addicted to knitting during long meetings, or while waiting for some sluggish deployment process to complete. Luckily I remembered my travel crochet project, nearly pocket-sized and super easy to pause and pick up at any time. Phew.

I really need to get on top of the knitting, though. Soon.

I woke up at 4:45 this morning and had trouble going back to sleep. I sort of managed to get some more sleep but was still all groggy and yawny until lunchtime, at which point I took a nap, which I haven’t done in ages. After the nap my body felt better but then time felt all dislocated. So I have no photo for today. Not even of my pillow.

I went out for grocery shopping after work and put on my lightweight spring coat because it looked sunny and warm. Shouldn’t have trusted the looks of the weather, should have looked at an actual thermometer. Because it was definitely colder than it looked and I had to walk really briskly in order not to shiver. It’s spring, but not as much spring as I keep wanting to believe.

I’ve reached middle age and become lactose intolerant. Sharing the symptoms with you would probably be TMI, but suffice it to say, they’re not fun. I can still eat small amounts of dairy without any problems, but a few days eating, say, pasta in a creamy sauce will really mess up my stomach.

So I’m now buying lactose free stuff, somewhat reluctantly. It doesn’t quite taste like the normal stuff. Lactose free butter and cream cheese both taste kind of blander and sharper. I guess my taste buds miss the sugar. I guess I’ll get used to it.

What bothers me more is that there are so few organic lactose free products. I want my milk and butter to come from happy cows who are not pumped full of antibiotics and who get to spend their days outdoors. But I also still want my butter to be butter, not an artificial alternative.

I was happy to see that at least when it comes to heavy cream, there is an organic lactose free alternative. Too bad it’s one of those semi-fake ones, with a thickening agent compensating for the lower fat content (36% instead of 40%). Organic, thickener free, lactose free: choose any two out of three.

Three deer lazing around in the spring sunshine in the garden. Clearly feeling right at home here.