I have cut the grass for the first time since last October. It was nearly up to my knees, but no longer. Not a beautifully smooth sward, but short.
I noticed this morning that the grass wasn't glistening with water and felt almost cuttable, so I reorganised my day so that my afternoon was free and as soon as I had had my post-prandial coffee and it hadn't started raining again, I got the mower out, adjusted the cutting blades up a bit, DH gave it its first start of the year and I was away.
The whole job took and hour and a half, but it is done and I am relaxing with a cup of tea. The smell is so glorious I feel like trying to bottle it -and selling it as a cure for corona virus-
To think that London, or anywhere else for that matter, does not belong to any one demographic