Day eight – Warm and fuzzy

What a lovely day yesterday. Every day should start with dancing. (Not that this day did.) The house should be warm all day, every day. (Not that it’s going to be today.) Friends should be a part of every day and today they will be.

Brunch with Donna and Garry was great fun, even if the Hollandaise sauce was a bit runny. Should have used more butter. Never mind, it still tasted great and I probably did less damage to their arteries. And they loved the brunch show: Steller’s jays pecking peanuts out of the slinky holder.

Not easy to spot, but if you look to the right of the flowers, you’ll see one sitting on the window box about to make her move.

A lazy afternoon, throwing wood on the fire and reading a book, punctuated with phone calls from my cousin in England and friends elsewhere. A meal before last night’s rehearsal with another friend at the island’s best restaurant and a bottle of Prosecco waiting in the fridge when I got home to my warm house. A pretty damn good birthday and it’s not over yet. Official birthday drinks and dinner with friends at the pub tonight. All good. Hope the warm fuzzies last.

You may have noticed a recurring theme in the above: warmth. After yesterday’s profligacy, I can no longer even try to pretend that there is enough wood in the shed to last the winter. Which means I need to buy more. But I don’t need a cord. I really only need a half cord of seasoned wood. As Garry said yesterday when I mentioned this, good luck with that. November is not the time for finding seasoned wood and it’s never easy to find anyone willing to sell half a cord.

Time, methinks, to stick my head back in the sand. And put another layer of clothes on.

Fifteen minutes is up. Time to get on with my contract work.

Today’s black and white photo.