Blimey it's cold. Really cold. There are patches of ice in the garden where the sun could not reach. I only noticed it as I made a very brief visit outside to the bins.
I went to see my sister this afternoon. She made me warming tea and I left feeling comforted by an afternoon by her woodburner. Fritha her Whippet is speedy when there is the scent of a shortbread biscuit. No luck today Fritha as I managed to get the whole biscuit into my mouth in one go. She did a fine job of feeding our 20 year old grumpy cat while we were away. I wouldn't have been surprised if she had died during our absence being so ancient. The cat not my sister. But no, we returned to find her still here and meowing for cheese every time we open the fridge door. Apparently adult cats only meow at humans and not each other.
Pen and Watercolour
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