Bush and Stale Cake
164 ViewsWoke up this morning with no desire to get out of bed. Wind howling outside coming in off the sea from the east with a bitter chill. Some weirdness overcame me when I finally did get up and dressed in deciding that I would not give in to the discomfort by burning electricity nor by lighting a fire and so I sat eating breakfast watching my breath in the air and the steam off my tea gathering on the window pane. This madness lasted until after lunch when I had to go to Kircubbin for lack of vitals. The heat in the van spoilt me totally. I came home like a wimp with another bag of coal and logs.
Walking the dog was a fast job. He with his fur coat stood shivering in the wind and no inclination to go further than the small wood for an emptying. Made soup or began the process. Lit a fire.
Spent some time putting Google Ads on everything I can think of in the hope that it’ll make enough money to pay for the hosting next time it’s due. Waiting for the soup to cook I’ve treated myself to stale cake with a capful of Bushmills poured on. Leftovers from my visitors yesterday. Cousins with new Ba. He’s a wee dote. David tells me of his intention to join up and volunteer for service in Afghanistan. I tell him he isn’t wise but I think my protests fell on deaf ears. I kept my comments brief but didn’t ‘rah rah’ his suggestion. I think Jo is happy enough with the idea even though she would be alone with a new baby for 6 months. It was good to see them.
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