The Power Of Words

"Do you think they will like the chickens and things?"

I said this in my sleep.

I don't of course remember saying it so it came as a great big whacking surprise when Mr H. told me as we sipped our early morning tea and coffee. I was shocked and amused and excited, it was, after all, a new experience and we all need new experiences, especially in bed.

The only reasonably sane reason for this queer nocturnal outpouring is that I'm reading Susan Hill's 'In The Springtime Of The Year' where the protagonist, Ruth, is dealing with sudden bereavement and the only thing that had never left her was her pleasure in caring for her hens. Everything else was very far away.

So I suppose I've kind of lost myself in this wonderful story which impacts even when I'm out for the count in the land of nod. Asleep.



Today feels fresher than yesterday, not a lot of sunlight as I type but the weather people say it'll be a warm one. Oh goody, because I'm out and about later on and a thermal vest just won't go with frilly knickers.

For munchies today: Half leg oflamb