The bitch has balls

There may not have been a single snowflake in December or January, but February is certainly making up for it.

My flamingos have got the hump.

The rhodos weren’t very happy either until I trod through the snow to knock the white stuff off.

Yesterday was supposed to be a Georgie and Joe walk, but I had no plans to drive anywhere. Main roads ploughed, side roads not so much and our walks require side road access. So I suggested to Joe that he might like to collect me and he agreed.

Oh, my lord, Georgie does love the snow.

Happily we weren’t the first ones to visit this particular trail, so no need to crunch through a foot of snow. (Think my boots might be nine or ten inches.)

At some point in the day earlier walkers had taken to time create…

Actually, I have no idea what it’s supposed to be, but it was pretty.

And of course I couldn’t resist.

Like Georgie needed any more snow on her. This is probably the highest level of snow she’s ever frolicked in and at whatever consistency it was yesterday the snow really liked her. Snowballs – everything from tiny to proper gonad-sized – attached themselves to her belly and hind quarters.

Every now and then she’s simply have to stop to try to get them off her.

Poor thing. Not that it seemed to slow down the frolicking much. And there was a warm shower and towelling off waiting for her when she got home.

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Day five: Still finding myself wanting a cigarette while I’m writing. But I’m not (seriously) tempted to head to the store and buy any, so that’s good. Next time I make it to the grocery store, perhaps I should buy some baby carrots?