courgettes are the same as zucchini, right?

Sunshine! Sunshine! Hallo SPRING! You and your copious snails are here!  I'm sneezing all over the show!

If it weren't for the sunshine, I think I'd have hamster-on-a-wheel-itis right now - you know, same day, rinse, repeat thing?  Groundhog Day (never really saw that movie all the way through but Bill Murray references are always, always apt even if you're not entirely sure about whether basically everything isn't a joke that Bill Murray is subtly winking at).

Aaaaaaanyway, what I'm saying is: I feel a bit stuck in the rut right now.  It's pretty much unjustified, it won't last.  I think it's a Gen Y type symptom, maybe.  (I *think* I'm Gen Y.   Spend a lot of time thinking and talking about ME ME ME? Yep, sounds about right.)  I'm always on the lookout for the next big thing, for all the talk of being in the moment.  Some fishing recruiter sent bait to P a few weeks ago offering him the opportunity of the big time in Luxembourg.  Despite all my professed contentedness back here on the Mothership Kiwi, the rut meant I found myself writing emails to P saying things like:

- 3 hours from Paris by train
- London.  Right.  There.
- We could get tenants.
- We'd be rich!
- Oh wait, scratch that, what the hell would I do all day?
- I'D EAT BON BONS.  SOLD.
- Baguette!
- Wine!
- WON'T SOMEBODY THINK OF THE CHEESE

etc, etc. 

P rationally pointed out that if we moved to Luxembourg we wouldn't be able to enjoy the fruits of our courgette plant.  A valid point; well made sir.  I've grown quite fond of the old zucchini plant, purchased hastily in a spur of the moment garden centre trip (who on earth does that? Just me, I suspect.  Young people don't go to the garden centre; old people don't do shit like that spontaneously because planning and seasonal planting in your garden is key, I hear).  I would hate to think I've battled the snails but otherwise neglected the plant for not a single ratatouille.

Plus, P continued, we've bought a fuckload of furniture recently that we'd like to enjoy (fuckload = must be an imperial measure).  We're talking a table, chairs, couch, outdoor table, benches, bbq - that's right people, when you come to our shack you're not going to have to eat squatting on the floor anymore!  ALL CLASS. 

So, let the sunshine through.  Onwards, upwards, zucchini-wards.