This morning it is blowing a hoolie. Dad appeared like a dark master at the barn door, fumbled around for his headtorch and illuminated us like the London Eye on New Year's Eve. We blinked and stretched and decided it was definately not a day for unnecessary exploration. The light flickered as the wind whipped the swinging wires into a frenzy and the rain gusted horizontally across the yard. We wished we were by the Little Fire at the cottage.
We all love the Little Fire at Wattlebury Cottage. If we get cold or have had a bath we are sometimes lucky enough to be able to sit in front of it and warm up.
So fierce the genteel competition the sometimes one creature will resort to sitting on top of another in order to get the maximum warmth. We all wish we were there now.
Gordon and Sylvia xxx
Gordon and Sylvia xxx
