Apparently, there is a shortage of mistletoe in the Uk due to a lack of suitable cider apple trees. Here, we have 52 of the flaming things so it wasn't too long before I managed to find a suitable bit that I could reach with my little silver sickle.
By the time M returned from work, I'd quite forgotten I'd hung it up, and, due to a passing irritation, was far from in the mood for a spontaneous amorous gesture.
I returned from a trip to the UK on Tuesday morning after a 24 hour journey..since then, have been snowed in and seen no-one except M. Could be going a little stir-crazy...I've
hung up more fat balls for the birds (a tricky business in gloves), cleaned out the chickens and ducks-oh and the rabbit...we're all struggling to walk on the ice. Even the ducks who look very surprised as their flippers go in opposite directions. Bess the staffie is much cleverer since she waits, follows behind, and then walks directly in my footsteps-a paw placed in each print. it makes me feel like Wenceleslas himself...
hung up more fat balls for the birds (a tricky business in gloves), cleaned out the chickens and ducks-oh and the rabbit...we're all struggling to walk on the ice. Even the ducks who look very surprised as their flippers go in opposite directions. Bess the staffie is much cleverer since she waits, follows behind, and then walks directly in my footsteps-a paw placed in each print. it makes me feel like Wenceleslas himself...
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