The spring reset

No cleaning required

I’m not one for spring cleaning, especially as a signifier of lifestyle wholeness or trad-wife observance. In this age of modern appliances, we really don’t need to be beating out winter’s soot from our rugs and laying herbs on our threshold as a seasonal spectacle. That’s what vacuums and Purdy & Figg are for.

But there is something about the change in the seasons that prompts a dusting down and shaking off as we reset our regular routines. Breakfast time feels different when the birds are singing outside; evenings seem less schlumpy when the sun is still up as you settle on the sofa.

It’s at this time of year that I experience both an urge to rearrange the furniture and a twitchy-itchy desire to switch up my day-to-day. And I know both actions stick better when I do them in tandem. It taps into the surge of sap that comes with spring, but in a way that feels sustainable; less big energy, more gentle uplift.

Try this… It starts with a walk through your home, sensing into where the setting feels stale and considering how it’s impacting your mood, energy and actions. I’m writing this in the living room, so let’s start there.

The lighter living room

Freshening up the fireplace

It’s the dried orange garland on the fireplace that tugs at my eyes first. We left it up after Christmas as it was giving winter hygge vibes. But without the twinkle of candlelight around it, it’s simply looking dried and dishevelled. Time for it (and all the blankets piled on the sofa) to go.

This sense of winter long outlasting its welcome is also there in the houseplants in the room. During the cold and dark months, these bring some ‘juice’ to the room – all succulent, fleshy greenery. But I’m craving colour and scent now – spring flowers, blossom boughs, the narcotic scent of hyacinths.

What is all this telling me? To embrace what I love about these months – after-dinner walks to watch the sunset at the beach; placing jugs of bright flowers around the room; lighting candles with fresher, floral scents. It means a shift of routine; if I’m not walking in the morning or on my lunch break, what else will I do in those times? Maybe read in the window, where the sun has shifted to the front of the house.

On to the other rooms…

The energising home office

The view from my office/deck

There’s not much that can move physically in this room. The desk is fixed in the corner; the bookshelves are bolted to the walls; the armchair is currently loaned to a friend, which has left some floorspace clear. What changes now is the study’s relationship with the outside. There are French doors onto a raised deck, which hovers between the courtyard below and the canopy of beech trees overhanging our garden. This space gets the morning sun, and for too long, it’s been out of bounds; too chilly to loiter on.

Once or twice in the past couple of months, I’ve taken my first cup of tea onto the deck and drunk it while listening to the world waking up. Now I want to make this part of my morning ritual. Throwing open the doors feels immediately energising. I’ve slipped out of the habit of meditating before I start work, but the routine of turning my back to the daylight and lighting a candle at my ‘altar’ feels wrong now. Better to sit on the deck and feel the breeze on my skin as my mind flicks through its file cards, picking out thoughts to focus on. It provides a soft transition between waking up and the working day, helping to settle anxious thinking before the nine-to-five begins.

There’s another opportunity here, too – a chance to find a third space that’s not rest and isn’t day job work. In a re-energised office, there’s a charge in the air that can be used to reinvigorate my writing practice, so I can go deep into that book pitch or delve into ideas. The pause and the mindfulness can take me to a place where the words flow.

The curated kitchen

Newly arranged kitchen shelves

‘The word ‘curated’ can seem a bit po-faced and contrived, but this isn’t what I mean here. It’s an opportunity to play.

We have two long shelves on one wall of our kitchen, a ledge behind the hob, and another two small shelves, one occupied by a ridiculously large speaker and the other by tins of dishwasher and laundry tablets. Then there’s the kitchen table, with a vase of Lego flowers in the centre.

So what can I do with these places? Change up the crockery and glassware on the open shelves, maybe, so there’s that tiny jolt of the unexpected when we reach for a cup or take down a plate? I could turn one of the shelves into a purely decorative display – take the cake stands out of the cupboard and put them on show instead. Maybe I’ll prop up artworks, like every deVOL kitchen ever, and add in a candlestick or two.

I don’t know yet, but I’m looking forward to an afternoon or two of pottering about and feeling creative while the kettle boils and the music plays (there’s no way my husband is moving that speaker).

Note: since writing that paragraph last weekend, I’ve had fun rearranging the shelves and raiding the local hedgerows for some greenery and flowers. The results are above. Pretty cute, yes? (My husband doesn’t agree.)

The blooming bathroom

I currently have an avocado plant sitting on the toilet cistern. It’s there and it’s alive, but it’s not really bringing tropical vibes to the bathroom. I’ve been inspired to change that by this Instagram reel from former Interior Design Masters contestant, Jack Kinsey.

jackkinsey

A post shared by @jackkinsey

What will do this for me? Well, I’m definitely a bath not a shower person, and love nothing more than an impromptu afternoon laze with a book among some scented bubbles. But with the lighter evenings, I’d like to make this part of a grounded and restorative evening ritual. Creating a bathroom that feels more magical and fun is a part of that.

The freshening bedroom

Not my bedroom! It's Piglet in Bed giving perfect spring vibes

From bath to bed… This room is already pretty simply decorated (if we ignore the garland of clothes that tends to accumulate on the small sofa during the week). But it feels a bit fusty and needs a freshening up. Time to raise the sash windows, turn the mattress and switch to the lighter tog duvets.

More than this, though, this is a room that is flooded with evening light – something to be embraced by putting down my phone or turning off the TV earlier, having that bedtime bath, then reading in bed while the sun sets beyond the windows. It feels indulgent to slip between crisp sheets and pick up a book, rather than diving exhausted beneath heavy covers.

Are you resetting your home and how you live in it this season? I’d love to know.