Ginger cats

A personal challenge - try and write something every day for January 2025 

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Like much of the UK, when I flung the curtains open this morning, I was welcomed by a brightly white view. Snow.

Himself and the cat seemed firmly burrowed in the duvet, so I pottered downstairs and while I waited for the kettle to boil, took photos with my mobile. Quick snaps as proof in case the rain came and spoilt everything, washing the brilliant white away and replacing it with the usual dismal and drab northern winter.

Sipping our tea and coffee, watching the snow flurry this way and that through the window,  suddenly message after message from the family pings up - photos of their snow, their happy snow chatter, so I sent them ours and it felt lovely that despite the boys being in their own homes - we were 'all together' watching the weather and comparing depth and snow fall type.

Himself wanted to get out and experience the snow so we wrapped up warmly and set off. The cottages in the village appeared to hunker down in the mounds of snow, clustering around the lane running through it. There was a thin wind curling around the trees and funnelling through the stone walls and slicking across my face making my cheeks feel brittle, however I could not feel my toes...

After about three miles, Himself and I returned, shed our many layers, put the kettle on - time for a mug of tea and  still warm 'ginger-cat' biscuits.