Please consider all my recent doubts about the coming of a new Ice Age as nul and void.
It’s been snowing for 24 hours, we’ve got 15 centimeters of the stuff, on top of the 25 centimeters that were left of what we’d had before.
The daffodil sprouts are buried, in fact, everything is buried, and our roof, that was clear, is now white again. The birds are still chirping away – silly things, they don’t know what’s in store.
In this context, it’s easy to dream of something completely different. A hotel get-away, for example. Anyone free to look after our horses for a couple of weeks? (Brats too, please…)
Stumble it!
