It snowed in the hills last night. Thankfully we are a very long way from the hills, but never the less it took an hour before our little electric heater, in a valiant effort combined with the ancient diesel powered one on the boat, managed to nudge the thermometer into double figures. Even when it reached fifteen we didn’t feel all that warm, gaining the distinct impression that the thermometer was fudging things out of sympathy for the heaters.
Perhaps therefore, we were even more grateful than we normally are to be in a position to accept Maggie’s kind invitation for lunch. Even if the food and company had not been it’s sensational usual self (which it most certainly was), we would have been happy just to have sat on their heated floors all afternoon.
At one point someone made a suggestion that we could take our coffee on the terrace under the wisteria, an idea which seemed to be a good thought at the time, but a thought which thankfully was abandoned in short order in favour of just a bit more sitting on the floor.