Apology

I woke up this morning in a cold sweat, remembering suddenly that I didn't post a post yesterday and this of course pains me greatly because I had grand plans for 'Chez Consette' and I am also a perfectionist. But yesterday was a busy day and culminated in much wine drinking, too much for memory. And it snowed for proper too which, as Writing Texts man with amazing face would say, defamiliarised the world; made it strange. It started out as an eiderdown and I'm glad I was up early to see the whiteness before the hordes spread their excitement in brown and grey ejaculations all over the place. All that remains today is a lone, and extrememly muddy, snowman marooned in the snowless grass. Do you remember that bit in The Snowman when the little boy goes out to see his friend and all that remains is a carrot and a scarf? The single most devastating occurence in the idiot's childhood.

I do like it here when it's like this. I like it here most of the time, but I get more sentimental on days like this. The lake is completely still and I'm not sure whether those silhouettes in the distance are houses or trees. Oh no wait, houses. The sun went behind a cloud for a second so that the mist making things confusing was not so bright.

Consette x