H.w.g.a #14

Today creaked into action wet and cold and I tried to do other things in the morning...but it's no use, I couldn't settle to admin and my achey back was crying out for a walk.

So it was time to tog up with the waterproofs and get out with Kitty.

My winter coat is an old one of Ben's - thick and warm, it just 'does what it says on the tin'.

And my waterproof trousers? When we moved back to Cambridge in 2002 I bought Ben, who was then 12, a black pair for cycling to and from school. 

Essential I thought. He disagreed - of course - and I acquired the trousers. 

They have been the mainstay of my wardrobe ever since.

Until today when one leg disintegrated, provoking thoughts of Mr Spiggot, the one legged Tarzan of Peter Cooke and Dudley Moore fame...

('I've got nothing against your right leg...the trouble is, neither have you!)

I made it up to the deserted golf-course today and we squelched around a bit...

The rain cleared this afternoon and the low winter sun on my old copper scuttle made a a beautiful reflection on the slate hearth...

I love the word 'hearth'...