Monday afternoon, 4 p.m.


In our neck of the woods, you could be forgiven for believing that the end of the world was nigh. It's  4 p.m. and it's just getting dark.  There is a snowstorm outside - it's about minus 5 - so the snow is swirly, powdery and fine.  It's like Mrs God up in the clouds has gone crazy sifting the flour for gingerbread... or something.
The lights in our windows are twinkling hopefully, and I can hear the wood pellets jingling as they are fed into our wood furnace.  Fizzy is cosily crunching on some of her catfood, kids are snuggled in front of the TV.  Tiss asks me why I'm smiling - I didn't know I was.
"Because we're warm, and we're at home, and it's snowing outside", I say, realizing that it doesn't take much to be truly happy - not really.



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