I'm not too sure what makes a 4x4 splutter and fart, and backfire louder than a 38 special, but ours is doing that. Couple to this loud jerky travel machine, 30cm flames that shoot out the side every 20 seconds when we drive into the town. Sigh. I've been trying to sit low and hide behind my Raybans, but I've realised this is a futile attempt at anonymity. People know its us. DUH!
Today it is well below freezing and our goose pond is a solid block of ice. I know it is solid because I rested a full box of biscuits on it, and the man's favourite pen. I could probably have sat on it myself. The wind is bringing down the temperature too (as well as 4 of my glass lanterns which were hanging outside). Some of our windows still don't have latches, and there is a round window in the lounge that has been too high and too oddly shaped to replace. And of course.....ta-ra...no electricity!
I now dress according to my station in life which is plotta-ma-plotter girl, or squatter farm lady. The man is not much better. And I care not.
Bring it on, Mother Nature, I can still add copious layers of socks, spencers, long-johns and hats! At least if I fall down on the iced up ground, I'll probably bounce right back up, like the Michelen Man!
I AM WOMAN, HEAR ME ROAR!
And give us an Old Brown Sherry, dammit....
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