The biting cold I can just about manage. But when the bloodthirsty local wildlife comes out, it all gets a bit much
The cat is lying on the kitchen floor like a spreading spill, soaking up the underfloor heating. The tortoise has found its way under the washing machine, where the floor isn’t heated, and will probably be there until March. We are all just waiting out the winter now.
Except the fox. The fox is busy. On my way to the shops the previous evening I saw him coming the other way, down the centre of the road, dragging a dead pigeon by one wing.
