So the Grand National was the harbinger of spring was it? H wakes today and goes to the window, and suddenly exclaims in delight. There is a carpet of snow on the ground. Usually I would leap from my bed to share the glory of the view. Perhaps it is a sign of age that I just grab my mobile, text T saying "lesson cancelled due to snow" and snuggle back under the duvet. Soon Dan is on the phone, his D of E hike through the Chilterns having been curtailed due global cooling.
Emsy has K & T staying overnight, and there is much excitement and talk of sledging.
In the muckhole it takes well over an hour to procure the requisite number of gloves, scarves and hats, and it escapes our attention that in the wake of the blizzard has come blinding, albeit chilly, spring sunshine.
So when we arrive sur la piste, it is a strange sight. The odd patch of snow, sturdy snowmen dotting the fields, and the ocassional shaded tree pregnant with the white stuff. Emsy is downacast. The snow doesn't come often, and when it arrives in April then you have to be up early in the morning to enjoy it.
We have a nice walk in the woods, though, and everyone is in good spirits. Then it's home to cook the Sunday dinner. Far too much sherry (I am up to about 5 glasses each go: this must be curtailed!)
Sunday dinner is great. We sit around the table as a family, and it is nice to know that we really are all very close, and all love each other. Then of course we argue about whose washing up. It's comforting that work avoidance can so motivate all of us. We try to encourage D to arrange an agenda for the forthcoming week's holiday. It is abundantly clear that his entire planning revolves around yet another World of Warcraft marathon.
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