Frozen milk

We woke to the telephone. Being the first day of half term no-one had to be anywhere at any particular time and Cyclo decided that a bike ride was out of the question, so we hadn’t set the alarm. It seems the plumber had been up for hours and it was before 9am. I suppose it wasn’t surprising since the temperature was pretty low last night, down to -14c in some places. Anyhoo, the plumber was ringing as I had left a message last night – for a leak unrelated to the cold. The shower pump – again.

I got up and bought in the milk which had frozen and spilled out into small globules on the doorstep, then took a tray of tea back up to bed, where it was warmer.

Pippi-long-Stocking, the cat, enjoyed eating the milk globules

Later I cleared out the bread bin and threw the crusts out into the snow for the rooks – and it didn’t take long for the usual crowd to descend. Normally they take the bread and cache it. I don’t think caching was an option today.

Here’s one of them, so starkly black against the snow

It was so beautiful as the light strengthened. I went out for a walk, leaving the plumber and his faulty flange or what ever it was in the capable hands of Cycloman and took my camera to meet a friend.

Ice capped lichen

Frosted ivy

Gravestone lichen

Later, after the walk and lunch I sat and sorted photos.

I have rarely printed any pictures, but a few things have spurred me on to do so. Firstly Milly has asked for some pictures of Pippi-long-Stocking and secondly I have been planning since before Christmas to make my own birthday cards, using my photos. Over at the ‘kitchesgarden’ Ceci is busy making her photos into postcards…. and here am I months after the idea came to me and still I hadn’t done anything!

I copied photos to a memory stick and went into town. 45 pictures will be ready on Monday.

Is that my tail?

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Author: Sarah

No time to lose. No, time to lose. Make time to stand and stare.... Did you see that?

5 thoughts on “Frozen milk”

  1. Lovely one Pseu:

    WHEN icicles hang by the wall,
    And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
    And Tom bears logs into the hall,
    And milk comes frozen home in pail,
    When blood is nipp’d, and ways be foul,
    Then nightly sings the staring owl,
    To-whit! To-who!—a merry note,
    While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

    Only he could rhyme note with pot, but he was from the Cotswolds.

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