I’m hesitant to say this but I think we might almost be feeling healthy again. Having written that I now fully expect to be struck down by yet another plague. Seriously, I’ve had a cold, the flu, and the Noro virus in the last three weeks, Kitty’s had a chest infection and H got a cold, a throat infection and his fair share of Noro. Fingers crossed, that’s it for us for a while. (I didn’t say that, I really didn’t, I promise; we could really do with just catching a break).
The snow fell again last night. Only a tiny dusting this time, light enough to cling to the tops of blades of grass, and form a crisp icy crust across the pavement. Kitty has just a touch of cabin fever, mainly characterised by bringing me her coat at regular intervals and trotting down the hall to pound on the front door, so I bundled her up this morning for a quick blast of fresh air. We walked up to the allotments, counting foot prints, and different sized doggy prints, and added our own swirly patterns to the path.
The walk to the allotments always detours to the baby playpark, and even the snow doesn’t stop a pointy hand and cry of “Dap!” escaping from the buggy. The slide was out of action with a snowy crash mat at the bottom but she loved stepping out making little flowery footprints into fresh snow.
It’s all melted now, and the forecast has switched the snowflakes for little round sunshines so I think we may have seen the last snowfall for the year. I’m glad we got to go out and play though, to see her with rosy pink cheeks and and a pink-tipped nose, playing in the snow, the winter she was one.