The weather is still practising for winter. We have been out in it and got wet, as has the dog. She is now curled up next to me on the felt blanket, chasing a rabbit in her sleep, back legs going.
I have a cup of chai tea while I write this and contemplate doing some craft work. I read again to T this morning, from The Long Winter. The descriptive passages seem to go on forever when you are reading out loud. I keep waiting for T to get bored with it but he is riveted. Laura Ingalls Wilder had spent years describing the world to her blind sister Mary, that must have come in handy, writing her books. Also, although she never kept a diary, she did write a lot, and kept every single scrap.
Certainly puts into perspective this dreary old weather. Can’t begin to imagine how cold it must have been during the blizzards described in the book. Not being able to see across the street for flying snow and the fear of being caught out in it, losing your way and wandering out into the vast prairie landscape that held no shelter whatsoever.
Anyway – on a more cheerful note, T has just lit the fire and made me more chai tea. He reports the courgettes are getting away on us ( I can just see them bounding off across the garden) and need to be eaten, so that is part of dinner sorted. I think I will watch the Gavin and Stacey Christmas special again and do some knitting – killing two birds with one stone.