Day One Hundred and Twenty Three

Festis 

Well all outside duties were canceled today.

Because of the weather. We did not even bother to stick our noses out.

The ice on the inside of the windows was sufficient warning. 

We were about to go back to sleep when Our Niamh appeared, bound and determined to go to university.

And it had just turned five am. 

So we convinced her to have a hearty breakfast while the poor Buick warmed itself.

Then she was off.

Mrs. T and Miss Pancake had been alerted to the departure and had their breakfast with us.

Miss Pancake, having been born in the mountains, instantly knew better than to linger outside. 

So when it was time for Mrs. T to go to her office Miss Pancake followed her and went fast asleep. 

When Mr. T got up he did not open the office door.

Letting sleeping dogs lie and all that. 

When lunchtime came along both of them appeared in the kitchen. 

And Mrs. T and Miss P did their training exercises. They do this four or five times a day.

So she can learn all her words. My goodness me. 

Our postman wrote us a note, thanking us for showering our walkway. 

My goodness, it seems as if some people are too lazy to clear their own. 

After lunchtime the ladies went back to the office to start this afternoon’s meetings. 

And Miss Pancake fell fast asleep at Mrs.’s feet. What a good dog she is. And warm too. 

Mr. T’s friend Kirk has gone to Rome for a little while. Just to have a nice holiday when it is cold here. 

Miss Poppy always want to go to Rome. 

Because she listened to our Emmet’s stories about the Punics. 

Now she can go and see everything. 

Perhaps Mister Barca will lend her one of his Punic elephants for the visit. 

But they are dam’d slow. 

One time I had to ride one up to Rangoon and back. Took nearly three weeks. 

This afternoon we peaked out but instantly brought our noses back in.

And in spite of the disappointment of not having a delicious bowl of Sen’s hot and sour soup, common sense prevailed.

When our Niamh got home she was nearly frozen solid. It is that cold today I do say. 

Thank goodness for central heating and close fitting windows. 

Fortunately it is not nearly so cold at the castle. We looked on the weather channel. 

I suspect that Cousin Morag and the dogs have returned to the townhouse in London. 

And I am sure all the nightclubs are as warm as toast, so she will not suffer from chilblains. 

As it was officially the weekend when Mrs. T’s work was over and dinner took priority. 

We had the last of  frozen croissants. 

With luck we shall venture forth tomorrow and restock the emergency food cache. 

Lord knows how old those cans of beans are.