CRISP

we're not talking about a wafer thin piece of english potato snack here. we're talking about the state of our winter.
don't be fooled by p in a t shirt, what we're really looking at is c, rugged up and winter ready for cycling adventures outside of the republic.

cos boy, winter caught the bus and arrived in the republic today.

after days of balmy beach going weather, of sultry nor'westers and barefooted garden follies all of a sudden that busload of winterywhatsits arrived with all its white luggage. it has rained and rained and rained so much that even the english crisp would be soggy. the hills are wearing their snowy white winter coats. and the mountains - well, those southern alps that had spent the whole summer standing there, trying to look inconspicuous, in some sort of mountianconspiracy, are now Mountains. they dominate the horizon in a spectacular and not at all discreet mountainish fashion.

if you were planning any expiditions to the rara republic in the next 5 minutes i would suggest you bring along a set of thermals. or, a rather smart fluffy ensemble that c here is wearing, brought especially from france, by his nannie; from his super-nannie.

despite all our efforts to install lovely passive solar heating (nothing posh, we're talking large, northfacing windows) it only actually makes a difference if the sun is out.

oh well. tis a good thing we've got a lovely great heater and a jolly good set of pinkbats (insulation- neither of which are standard issue round here)

i pity the chickens. poor things. their yard is looking rather slick and with the other citizenry onto winter soup mode the kitchen scraps aren't so plentiful as a month ago. tis a good thing that c has gone off his weetbix!

xxx
mama b
(i've got slippers- bring your own!)