Things to do on a Sunday

It's a week later, everything is still standing.  There's a terrible smell in the porch.  A stray cat has got in and decided to make the place his own, so it's out with the bleach, all round the doorway and floor, shifting pots and cleaning underneath.  Now it smells like a hospital and the malviscus doesn't like it.  I do my Sunday feeding and watering and it reluctantly perks up a bit, but it still looks like a bunch of green hankies on washing day.  I hope it gets over its sulk before my Beloved gets home.
A lone seed has germinated in the propagator this week.  It was half an inch tall when I noticed it.  It's only been in there for 2 years so it's time it did something. Neither of us can recall what we originally sowed.  Texted my Beloved excitedly.  'What does it look like?' 'Small with two round leaves.'  Now it is a bit taller but still looks basically the same.  I text an update.  This is apparently excellent news.  When I look back at it to make sure it hasn't died in the meantime (no good at seeds, remember) it seems to have grown an extra bit that looks like a tentacle.  A sort of one-legged octopus.  I suspect this is one of the multitude of scrambling plants that in my ignorance I lump in the category of Peas.  I'm good at peas.  Only this will be an exotic one with red flowers, if I can only keep it going.
But good news, the clivia is in flower.  It must be nearly May, when the sun gets in at just the right angle and all at once the corner of the living room glows pinky-orange and stays that way all summer.  This plant is huge and would proudly grace the window of any posh Chinese restaurant.  We call it Maureen.
Out in the garden I start weeding, so that there is somewhere to put the mixed garden perennials when they are big enough, which they nearly are.  This is hard going, as our garden is mostly lumps of brickwork from the original building which stood on this site covered with a grudging layer of poor topsoil.  Dandelions and bindweed love it, and so do sycamore seedlings, but everything else has a struggle, especially as we have some very voracious slugs in residence.  Still, after much digging and tugging I manage to clear a respectable space near the front gate where everyone will see it (and hopefully not walk all over it) on their way in.  This will look beautiful in the summer but now it just looks muddy, and there is a cat digging experimental holes in it.  I have some handmade compost to add, but it's cold and windy and I haven't the heart for lugging barrowloads round the garden today.  I'll devote Thursday to that job.  Time for tea.