Seven degrees at 8am and an extraordinary eighteen degrees at 1pm. That's 64.4 degrees Fahrenheit to you Brits. A blustery but warm wind is making white horses. Mama : (mutters to herself as she finally drags herself, a parcel, a shopping bag and two children round the last curve of the hill and strides into the final straight) "And now I've got to go and feed the bloody chickens..."
AJ : (mutters to himself as he rounds the curve, sits down for his 11th rest-stop of the climb and sees the cat waiting for him) "And now I've got to go and feed my bloody girl-cat..."
Copyright © Louise Bostock 2007, 2008. All rights reserved. Please ask first.
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