Rabbit runs out this morning, invigorated by -8 centigrade. He has intrepidly thick fur. Dog sleeps on the sofa in the room with the glowing wood burner. Cat strolls in, getting underfoot in the kitchen. Her fridge stalking skills are clumsy. I put her on a chair safe from grumpy morning feet and grouchy milk hunting. The faerie tale landscape of clearest sky, sparkling ground and cut out trees continues to exist.
Practicalities of living here are good; frozen mud doesn’t make soggy steps across the laminate floor; and bad. My car doors have frozen open. It’s undriveable.
Mr has a car with doors that open and close, and, after we have cleared a viewing hole for the windscreen, it is driveable.