|Wrap up warm|
|Boots tightly buckled|
After all, it would probably only be three minutes long and as is their wont in the interests of Balance they would invite in someone guaranteed to disagree with every word I said, and I am sure that it would be all too flustering.
|Thick woolly tights and extra skirt for warmth|
And do I need such an outlet for venting my witterings on sundry subjects?
|Don't forget a nice warm shawl|
|An adoring audience|
Not that I know what a soapbox looks like, although I have always coveted one (along with a wrapover flowery pinny just like the one on Hen's blog here).
|How interesting. Yes, fascinating. I wish she would go on forever. Don't worry, she will.|
In fact, the days of expressing that adage seem to be fading fast, as the bickering has simmered down, and rarely now am I called upon to intervene in some sibling dispute, muttering under my breath blessed are the peacemakers . . . (I can never remember the second bit, in spite of the fact that I had to memorize the Beatitudes at school, but thanks to your encouragement I think I will now add, blessed are the knitters and needlewomen, the cooks and the bottlewashers for where would the world be without them . . .).
|Did you say something?|
And as they say, it Never Rains but it Pours - only a couple of days ago I was looking at my shiny sinks, and my tightly-laced shoes, and thinking that this is all very well but it won't keep me in cashmere cardigans, hand-dyed yarn and fat quarter bundles, then suddenly half-term hits me like a wave, with wall-to-wall B&B guests (the last two said that it was the best B&B they have ever stayed in, oh joy), sheets flapping on the washing line, sheets piled up in the ironing basket, sheets in the washing machine, and 100,000 words flying in over the wires (not a rush job, just a couple of weeks, you're not going away for half term are you?) . . .
|Bathed in a rosy glow|
I will stride forth into the future, secure in the encouragement that you give me, and loving the rosy glow.