Had a bit of a 'start' to the day this morning. Am off drinking tea at the moment because it is upsetting my tummy, so I have hot Cranberry juice instead. The bottle is kept in the fridge. It sits beside the Baileys bottle. Somehow, and I know not how, my hand inadvertently engaged with the Baileys instead of the Cranberry Juice. Into my cup went a lovely dribble of Baileys. "Oops, that's a funny colour for Cranberry Juice", I thought. Upon further examination of the bottle I realised my error. Poured the Baileys back into the bottle reluctantly, deliberating whether or not to have a sinful moment and swig it down instead. Honestly and truthfully, all went back into the bottle. It is not my fault if some got stuck to the sides of the cup. And it is not my fault if I did not realise this as I poured some Cranberry juice into the cup, followed by some hot water. And it is not my fault that I did nothing to remedy the fact that the remainder of the Baileys had laced the Cranberry juice delightfully. I was, after all, still tired from a late night out at the choir rehearsal therefore could not be expected to empty the undrunk drink down the sink and start again with a cup of hot Cranberry juice unlaced by anything exciting at all.
The new choir. Man oh man, but phew! All very friendly. All very French. Felt myself dunked in a sea of French words. It will be good for me, this new choir, because I shall not be cacooned from the world of the French by being sat alongside my English friends with whom I have English spoken conversations, as happens in the Mabourguet choir. In the new choir at Riscle, I shall not have this cacoon. Crikey, but I shall struggle. Ah well. Not to worry. I start in January.
Drop of sunshine popped through the mists this afternoon. Made everyone go loopy, especially Elise. Did a romp up and down the road and over and about the nearby field of oil seed rape and then bouncy bouncy over the front garden then back on the road with a kick of her heels and a flip of her back. She was very naughty. She was reminding us that she does not have to be a docile little cow all the time. She was saying "Do not expect me come in from the field and then go to bed in the Tall Barn without having a romp around first", that is what she was saying. So no supper for her tonight or tomorrow night, this is what Hubs said. This edict lasted for all of half a minute. She turned full face to him, and he wilted. It's those eyes of hers. Wilts everybody who sees her. Hubs gave her a handful of Lucerne. I said not to. She laid her ears back when she heard my voice. Knows not to mess with me. Remembers the time she caused a ruckus with me and she got left out in the field for the night. This was when Hubs was away in Paris and I was the one in charge. She has respect for me. But her and Hubs, well she knows which buttons to push with him, and he does do a drool over her. I do too, but secretly.
No babies here yet, just one of the Sussex hens sitting on an empty nest. Not sure if she is broody or not, neither does she.
No rain today. Temperatures going down to zero, so electric blanket switched on to 2 for the night.
No washing up anywhere. I publicly do a drool over the dishwasher.
No soup in the freezer. It is stored in a huge pot in the kitchen, all cooked and ready to be bagged up. Off to do that now.