It's 15 degrees here today. Is anyone else longing for the time of ice and cold air? I'm badly missing frost that comes down with the gloaming, crisping blades of grass so they click and crunch beneath your feet, and silvering the trees. I miss the chill that should be lacing the air, rejuvenating it after the summer's heavy warmth. I want to watch as my breath materialises in front of me when the dogs and I go down through the woods beneath the place where the Red Kite soars and the Mistle Thrush sings, instead of strolling along the path glove-and-hat-less wearing wellies for the mud with summertime clothing for the air. It feels all wrong, like the season has gone awry. I'm sure Mother Nature knows what she's doing, so I just need to have a little faith in that Universal Balance thing she's so good at.
In other news, Poppy has started jumping over fences to get to her people and/ or interesting-looking dogs who happen to be on the lane. For a small creature she can't half leap.That girl has springs under her paws, I swear. So far she has taken her angel with her each time and avoided a squashing, but it wouldn't be right to leave Getting Poppy Out Of Trouble Duty exclusively up to her angel (the poor woman would quickly become exhausted), so I foresee a festive period spent increasing the heights of the fences around the house and garden to Poppy-proof them. Ted maintains his dignity and declines fence-leaping and simply barks loudly whenever she does it to let me know she's being naughty. Again.
Meanwhile, L has been busy booby-trapping the entire house with snappers he's filched from the insides of crackers. He's expert at removing them so you don't realise until you try to pull them during Christmas lunch and nothing happens. Last year I was on the point of ringing up Waitrose to complain at a defective bunch- what's the point of a cracker that doesn't crack- before he guiltily fessed up. I'd forgotten this propensity of his in the intervening twelve months, but was treated to a hearty reminder of it last night when I went to bed. Pushing our bedroom door open I was greeted by a small puff of smoke and a loud explosion accompanied by quite an impressive flash. I jumped out of my skin and clutched my heart and then became aware of cheering from his room. I got my own back accidentally this morning when I went in to wake him up for school and the banger secreted inside the door jamb exploded. I've never seen him shoot out of bed so fast. Clearly, a small explosive device set off inside their bedrooms is the way forward when it comes to getting recalcitrant teenagers out of bed.
Hope all are well?