Due entirely to being hopeless, the ol' Fordor Cee-dan remains my sole means of transport. It's making her weary and I feel for her.
Hey ho. Temperatures have sunk and the faded golden browns I'd been loving - all crispy white. Minus four - glad I brought the geraniums in. Puddled road outside the house, treacherous ice built on ice. Scrape the frost from the windows, one through eight. And again on the inside. Four kid school run, and they breathe a fresh layer of ice on the inside. Even the mirror...
Once again windows scraped, I gingerly set off with the low sun making a half-hearted attempt at keeping the view clear. Diffusing through the glass in a blinding glow. Chug-a-boom, chug-a-boom. No rush, taking my time on the crunchy roads and watching out for ice rinks formed by splashed through puddles. Plenty of them too, from all the recent rains.
Homeward bound on still slippery roads. Chug-a-boom, chug-a-boom. Low diamond white mists beginning to smother the fields where the feeble winter sun failed to win against the day long frost.
Fires lit, tea cooked (hidden ingredient - organic cider - in a peanut chilli), out to see serious Alice at her school play. Back home in a festive mood to a warm house. Kids hanging decorations with a quarrel whilst I make some roly poly mince pies. Hidden ingredient? Thick cut orange marmalade. Lovely. And like the weather, I don't think they'll last long...
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