Supper Night

The bloody snow is back with a vengeance this morning, which is another bummer. Before I opened up the 13 hen houses I sneaked an extra feed to the guineas to bolster them up after an icy night in the Churchyard elm. From left to right we have Hughie, Alf and little IvyLast night my family braved the elements and almost killed themselves getting to our village for supper. My brother in law ( who is a bit of a daredevil and an ex rally driver) decided to drive up Gwaenysgor Hill ( which is 1 in 4) in a BMW along with my two sisters and another brother in law ( with all the starter in a huge picnic basket). The road was closed due to ice, but he in typical Indiana Jones style "gave it a go"
Suffice to say that after much shouting and fallings out (and a multiple yard slide down a steep snow covered grass bank) they left the car teetering on the edge and walked down the hill to catch a taxi up to us.(the long and safe way around)
Now I don't think it was the shock of nearly rolling down the hill that made them feel the cold ( a few gin and tonics and large glasses of wine soon helped them recover from their ordeal)

But all of them thought that our cottage was freezing even though the coal burner was on full draw. That's modern day central heating for you! Bloody softies! Halfway through courses they dug out all of our welsh blankets and sat there in the living room like a group of elderly old farts. I have a feeling that we won't be holding another supper night until spring time!