Today in North Wales, the temperature reached 19°. This is the hottest February day in Britain ever. And, while it wasn’t that hot here, it was hot enough for me to remove my fleece and put a pair of shorts on.
It was particularly hot on the way back from the monthly market, my wicker trolley full of goodies. It was quite crowded at the market which might be because of the weather rather than any unusual interest in local produce.
On the way home I stopped for the usual update on the houses at the old car dealership.
It was at about here that I had to take my fleece off, the sweat pouring off me. When I reached home, I opened the doors right up, welcoming in the sun. Once she’d finished Skyping, Mirinda closed the doors, claiming it was a bit chilly.
I unpacked my trolley, giving Mirinda her usual three blocks of Sussex Charmer (her favourite cheese) and her not so usual bottle of Tom Cat Mango Gin. The Tom Cat stall isn’t always at the market and I know how much Mirinda enjoyed the last bottle we bought. Buying a full bottle was a bit of a no brainer really.
After lunch (which featured some delicious venison and red wine sausages from the market) we went up to the garden centre to, firstly, keep Fiona happy and secondly buy some essential window boxes and a new sprayer connection for the hose, the old one having cracked after freezing in the winter.
The displays of plants outside were bright and cheerful in the very unexpected spring-ish sunshine. I have no idea why Mirinda insisted on wearing her quilt.
Back at home I set about roasting a Persian chicken…or roasting a chicken in the Persian manner given the chicken was actually born in the UK.
Although the day had been glorious, by the time we ate dinner, it was time to draw around the camp fire with the doors firmly closed against the sudden chill. The chicken, regardless of its nationality, was delicious.