When I was out running this morning, a firework whizzed over my head. It was 6.30am and very dark and I wondered to myself about the unlikeliness of seeing a firework right then. I guess it's coming around to that time of year again. How lovely :)
Before that, it has been a grey sort of week, making it more essential to get outside, even whilst it feels conversely less enticing to do so. Daylight appears rationed so I'm doing my best to get a share. I have an unfortunate knack for getting caught in rainstorms, streaking through town with my hair a slick wet helmet around my ears... Still, nothing beats returning home from such an outing for a steaming cup of tea and a cuddle with the dog. Oh, she's a cuddler :)
Mostly I adore the chilly days, but I become the Human Temperature Project when Autumn really sets in. I'm a changeable mixture of hot cheeks, cold nose, chattering teeth, hot ears, cold ears, wrapped up and toasty with knee-length socks and woolly boots, or shivering in a poorly planned nightshirt.
My fingers are a law unto themselves; white and uncooperative- freezing even if the rest of me is warm. Does anybody else have this problem in the cold weather? It plagues me annually, with my fingertips becoming swollen and tender- a particular nuisance for drawing. Happily, I have the best, most thoughtful Mum of them all. She returned home yesterday beaming- laden with this fleecy monk-like cape (er, a 'snug rug'?) and vowing that I will never be cold again. Looking at the thing, I will never be fashionable again, either. But if it's a trade for warmth, then I'll give up the style points!
In conclusion to gloomy-weather rant, and I'll finish with some cheerier thoughts- and a celebration of the hour or so that the sun took centre stage a few days ago. Our little family jumped for joy and dashed out for some dog-walking. Sensing our enthusiasm, Ellie took off for some mischief, like she really really meant it. Guess she knows when she can get away with it. At least there was no Badger Poop Rolling (her sport of choice), but she was under a fence and halfway across the field before we could blink. Squirrel?
Sometimes, nothing provides more happiness than the dog. Heres a toast to my future dachshund who- if he takes after me will have to be clothed in tights and capes of his very own next Winter.
Perhaps though, he will take after Cousin Arnold- a whirlwind of activity who hops through the snow drifts of Tahoe like he thinks he's a husky-dog. That's my boy. Here's hoping :)