Yesterday we were snowed in and the chickens went on strike only supplying 1 lousy egg. Luckily husband had decided to work from home, so no ill could possibly befall us. I was a domestic goddess even attempting bread. The bread was a disaster but the smell was great. The chickens are far less fussy than my family and loved the bread.
We survived the whole day, although five year old son couldn't quite fathom why Daddy couldn't play computer games all day. 'Come on Dad,' he said. 'No,' said patient father. 'I have to work.' 'But you're the boss, so you don't need to work.' My husband believes I instill these lax ideas.
Being kindly, Husband set two of the open fires and warmth began to defrost the inside of the house. Just as I was beginning to get reacquainted with my toes, the six year old who is now seven, decided to play with my sharpest knife and a magnet!
I know we've been at The Larches since the end of August and I've thought of registering with a GP but something always seemed to get in the way. We've got one now!
The drive to the nearest little town was hair-raising, we so need a 4x4. I wondered if I could ask the GP for a quick fix of Prozac for the journey home. The cut on daughter's finger was just short of requiring stitches so we didn't need to drive the additional 30 miles to the hospital. We made it home after dark, leaving the the car parked at the top of the drive at a jaunty angle!
Another job ticked off the monumental list!
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