I love it when I can feel winter approaching! First sign – Mop in town. The High Street closes down completely from Friday night to Sunday morning, and the funfair takes over. I was terribly deprived as a child – my Dad has always been a bit sceptical over the safety of fairground rides; hates goldfish and would never let me have one of those giant sugar dummies. Because of this, I absolutely adore the fair. Throughout my teens, it was the social event of the year – a number of pubs in town would turn a complete blind eye to underage drinking, and you would spin in the Cage until either it, or the Smirnoff Ice, made you sick. What can I say? Rural life is exciting!
Nowadays, things are slightly different. Bizarrely enough, I still go to the same pub, but I don’t have to lurk in the shadows while my more developed friend goes to buy the drinks. I have also got over my “ugh, only laddy girls drink pints” phase. Unfortunately, grown-ups who like to be turned upside-down and shaken, both literally and metaphorically, are getting fewer and further between. Thank heavens, therefore, for my brilliant husband, who is just as much of a child as I am – and that includes enjoying a cheeky trip to One Stop for a pocket-sized bottle of nasty brandy to keep the cold at bay.
Meg seems to love the weather as well. She’s constantly sniffing at the air, trying to figure out why it seems different. Or, with the amount of time I’m spending with her, I’m assigning far too much of a personality. At the moment, she seems pissed off with me. After weeks of her biting my hair, I decided to borrow Mum’s air-in-a-can. Two squirts into the air, and she’s eyeing me with suspicion, but the fact that I can cuddle her without her trying to gnaw off my nose is a great blessing… Unless she’s saving it up for when I least expect it. Those big brown puppy dog eyes can be deceiving.
Picture using Hipstamatic iPhone app. Because I’m such a hipsta.