Oooh it was cold last night; so cold that the electric blanket got turned on at 4am. Brrr! This morning there is ice on the inside of all the windows. I haven’t been out for two days so may have to go punch a hole in the ice and catch some fish. Such a romantic gesture which would look good to he-who-goes-to-work-come-hail-ice-or-storm, the only problem is that we haven’t got a salmon lake in the garden. But the weather is cold enough that it seems like the only option to stay alive. That and the well stocked fridge, obviously.
The residents of the House are divided as to whether this is a true crisis or not. Half have departed for work at roughly the normal time each morning despite six inches of snow – all men, of course. The other half are hunkering down and refusing to budge. That includes me because it’s cold, cold, cold outside!
The four legged neighbours don’t seem too worried by this cold – but they have stables to retreat to at night, and warm tartan jackets to wear by day. They are pampered horses, not like the Dartmoor ponies you see with 4 inches of snow on their backs that no one can be bothered to brush off. That will be me soon, with little icicles on my nose and ears by morning.
