It may be early spring - the sun may be bright, but the air remains cool; the sparrows may be noisy in the forsythia hedge, but there's still no nest-building; I may be considering salad, but I'm still making soup! I've always loved soup - is it my northern upbringing? It has to be homemade. Always thick. Always burning hot. And always tastier on the second day. (None of that cold watery stuff that skids off your spoon!)

I once had an idea that I'd like to start a business, selling soup in vintage bowls, to office workers at lunchtimes. The snag was: I'd neither have enough soup bowls, nor enough soup spoons - you just can't serve something yummy & healthy, in a pretty bowl, with a plastic spoon, can you?

It was just another of my madcap notions! I came upon an old notebook recently. Inside I'd written, I feel so creative I might burst! The pompous statement made me laugh out loud! I sometimes find it hard to apply myself 'cos I have so many ideas rumbling about in my head.

I have short stories to finish; artwork ideas to pull together; I have to stop looking at possible holiday destinations; stop drawing designs for a potential sunroom at the back of my house; stop looking at sad pics of dogs & kittens on the local SSPCA website; stop browsing Scandi and Industrial room ideas online.

I need to stop all this idea juggling! I need to concentrate! But first I'm off to make some thick chicken broth. Sometimes everything has to start with SOUP!