One too many mornings

By stevieholmes

Minus something-or-other

Dear baby,

Today I awoke to look out of the bedroom window at the garden below speckled with snow. By the time I left work it became a full on blizzard, enough to turn my black wool coat white.

As I write this, I work for a small jewellery business in Hove, owned by a very nice but rather obsessive lady who today took offence to the fact I wanted to view a house we might like to move into. Strangely she seems to think that looking at a house for half an hour will somehow affect my ability to do my job...

Anyhow, we need to look at houses so it's hard cheese! Currently we live in a one bed flat in Hove where poor Polly the cat has an imprisoned life (albeit a pampered prison) with no outside space. Your Dad and I manage fine, though the flat is large it's not big enough for him to have proper space to make his music, and for me to tear up bits of paper and stick them to canvas in the name of art. Who knows - maybe this week we'll get to look at this house? Maybe it will be perfect and we'll decide to just buy it? Perhaps you'll get a nursery sooner than we think and not have to sleep in a box on the end of the bed!

In the meantime, I'm going to warm up by the fire, then eat the lush smelling shepherds pie your dad is making. Hopefully it will keep you happy and get you rolling about later on. I've been so busy at work I've barely noticed you move, and I've missed it....

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