Fog, defrosting and chilly fingers
What a shock this morning to wake up and find a significant frost - had to put the car on to heat up before I could even contemplate putting james in there.
Fortunately, some sixth sense had clearly warned me that it was going to be cold as yesterday I had bought a big thick jumper for work. Yay.
Monday is a horrible day. Yuck. But I shan't complain.
Drive home was as close to terrifying as I have experienced in a car since the first winter after I learned to drive (more of that in a moment). The M60 and M62 were covered in fog, which was rolling quite ominously. Compounded by numpty drivers who clearly do not understand the concept of safe breaking distances, at times it got quite hairy. Took an hour to do my 19 mile journey. But safe and sound at least. (As for the last time - December 1990, in my beige Morris Ital, rear wheel drive, very icy roads, turned onto one of the back lane roads near my dads - nice and careful, back end went, span the car 360 degrees plus a little extra - nudged into a hedge and said a brief hello to a startled cow on the other side. I have made sure that I know what to do in the event of my car skidding since then!)
After cooking tea, James came into the kitchen and pronounced that he was hungry (he had already had sausage and mash at his childminder's house!) and would I do him some pasta, bacon and cheese. Oh, and could I do some for Jack too?! So another 15 minutes slaving at a hot stove, where I pronounced to Corin that I was clearly not a domestic goddess, for if I was I would have perpetually clean work surfaces and would not have piles of laundry stashed around the house. He did point out that we both have full time jobs and living with a builder/plumber does make a clean house a bit like the search for the holy grail - pointless and never-ending.
Went for a walk to the field behind our house - not sure what possessed me - maybe thought the light would be interesting because of the fog. Got a few shots, got a bit twitchy stood around in the dark and fog with nothing but the drip drip of moisture from leaves onto my head and the pavement and occasional cracking and crunching from spurious wildlife in the wasteland left by building firm opposite the field. Just as I was taking my last shots, a neighbour rounded the corner with her two little yappy dogs - one on a lead, the other not - the leadless one promptly came and jumped all over me, bit my coat and hung off it for a few seconds until I flung it off. All my neighbour could say was "oh watch him - he can be a bit naughty". If he ever does that to James, there will be bloody trouble!
The rest are here