Holding Out

Lovely to see snow flutters this morning.  It's one of the many good things about retirement that we can enjoy it at our leisure and don't have to head out to work in it.  I recollect being taken out by black ice on my bicycle early one morning en route to school and, on another occasion, Tony walking all the way to find his school had just been closed when he taught on the other side of Bradford.  I also remember one particularly bad winter when I walked past the end of the street on several days where one of my burly students lived and he came in with a note saying he was snowbound for the week!  I should have knocked on his door!

The electricians arrived early and are busy installing an exterior light near the front door.  There have been mumblings about 'solid walls' but nothing is straightforward in our Victorian terrace we have come to accept.  I have refilled the feeders, cleaned out the remnants of the apples stored in the shed, which had been feasted on by something.  I've hopefully blocked up the ingress.  Now we are ensconced in the kitchen till the work upstairs is done, Tony on his jigsaw, me on Hobblwordl.

Yesterday evening seven Hobblers turned out for a fun, chilly run, the highest number since before Covid.  We just need two more and we will be a full complement again.  They are such good women.

This tiny Narcissus is the only bit of colour on the rockery and I stop to enjoy it whenever I'm passing.

Meanwhile the snow continues to flutter prettily down.  I may have to layer up and go for a walk in it after lunch.