All I know , was that when I got home the dogs had infiltrated the living room ( thanks to Albert who has the ability to open the kitchen door) and had merrily dotted the carpet with several little puddles.
Of piss.....it's not their fault.....its Winnie's leaking fanny that causes the problem.......
So I've shampooed the carpet, walked the dogs in the pouring rain and have just lit the fire. The cottage now looks homely and warm and everything in front of the fire is steaming gently.
My twin sister has just emailed me, wanting to know what I want for Christmas. and looking at the fire this morning, I know exactly what I shall ask for..
I want an old fashioned toasting fork!
As children we would often toast bread, muffins and crumpets in front of the fire. The ritual was always fraught with a tiny bit of danger. Of slightly scorched kiddie fingers, smokey tasting toast and proper butter stains.over your front.
If you were toasting bread. It would always be thickly sliced bread, an inch thick.
It was like toasting very small cushions .
The older we get, sometimes the more we enjoy recreating the happy memories of the past.
It's a miserable wet day today.....so...I think I'll treat myself to a crumpet this evening.......I'll fashion a short term toasting fork out of one of Chris' knitting needles.......and will give the toasting a bit of a go........