Too old for the splits

It was all a bit slippy this morning, walking into town. On the way in, I walked on the grass and, on the way back, I took the back streets. Oddly enough, down the back streets, one side was slippy while the other was not. It was as if the snow had only fallen on one side of the road. And not always the same side either.

In Starbucks, Sandra told me how, as a child in Lithuania, she would walk to primary school through snow drifts taller than her. She would get to school and her eyelashes and eyebrows would be frosty and frozen. She couldn’t lick her lips because her tongue would stick to them. I decided not to complain about the weather.

Instead, I discussed the joys of brewery tours with the woman on the check out at Waitrose. She said that she and her husband had enjoyed one in the Cotswolds, on the weekend. She said at the end they were very generous with the free beers. Not that she likes beer, but her husband was very pleased.

It reminded me of the episode of Still Game when Jack and Victor go on a brewery tour in order to get the free beer at the end, only to get one small glass each. They wind up going on the tour over and over again.

In the meanwhilst, Mirinda spent the day in Winchester, strolling around the Christmas market and generally enjoying a day off. She had a lovely lunch at The Ivy and returned home suitably rested.

By the end of the day, most of the snow had gone but, in the afternoon, the back of the garden still looked quite pretty.

I did suffer what could have been an embarrassing accident at one stage. The leaves on the terrace were mixing with the melting snow, causing a rather slippery surface. I slipped and went into a full leg stretch, straining the muscle in my right inner thigh. It’s going to ache tomorrow but at least no-one saw it.

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