Today we saw the sky. Yessssss.
There was a gushing pink hue to the thin clouds this morning as the sun blossomed over the hilltop like nature's orgasm.
(Like that?)
I thought it was the reflection of the wooden wall on the window in my office but it was real pink clouds. In the morning, shepherds warning but there was nothing to be scared of. Daytime temps soared to -2 and it's only going to be -11 overnight. I tell myself it's preferable to -4 in Manchester where it's oh so damp and gets into your bones. I have no ice to scrape off my windscreen here, just the occasional snowfall to brush away but don't breathe on the windscreen - oh no - because your breath goes hard then it starts to grow!.
After the sun came up, the skies cleared even more. I hadn't realised just how bad the valley claustrophobia is. We complain and complain when we can't see the sky here. Because there's no moisture there's no funky frost or fog creeping across the fields. It just gets grey. The Cheshire Plain could be quite awe inspiring on a grey day but here you feel like you're stuck in a cupboard with the mountains folding in on you from all directions.
I don't know how Rob survived in Winterpeg. The dark nights, huddling up indoors. Oh yeah, Interweb, that's how. Alas, all motherboards in our house are dead so my computer-build has come to an end. I'm hoping Santa will bring me a sexy Mac for christmas... and that has nothing to do with flashers. Instead I revert to writing christmas cards and letters.
I should get back to excercising and I think I will. I'll go home tonight and pack my gym kit for tomorrow. The only problem with that is the terrible pain in my shoulder. I have no idea what I did but my guess is, I hawked the kitten over my shoulder in the middle of the night when she was purring at my water glass. Either that or I hurt it hulking around all santa's presents for him because he couldn't make it to Canada Post at lunchtime.
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