At home: The coat that came in the post x
I feel like Scott of the Antarctic. Surrounded by snow, and a wind chill that stings your nose and tightens your cheeks. Its a vicious blizzard outside. The forecast warning of another night of snow on snow. I have already had to dig two intrepid travellers out of the snow who dared to venture up the hill. One of which was the poor postie, delivering a lovely birthday coat from my parents. Ella, reluctantly came to help lock up the chickens, round up the ducks, check the horses water and close the gates. The wind tore into her. She walked backwards against it, letting out a shriek of "Mum!" On coming back inside, she spied my new coat with an antarctic hood still in the brown parcel paper, "Couldn't I have worn this to lock up?"
Scott of the Antarctic wrote in his diary his last words to his son, "Fight indolence, Love the open air and be a strenuous man" (or woman or girl in mine and Ella's case!) x