I am not on friendly terms with my house in Winter. It offers no warmth or friendliness at all. In fact it is rather cool and grumpy. When we seek out it's embrace we are met with frosty disinterest. Rude isn't it!
It seems to conveniently grow itself a layer of dust over every surface, that reappears as soon as I so wipe it clean. It doesn't allow the sun in to cast that lovely warm glow over the cobwebby corners but rather blocks it out with it's icy disdain.
I long to meet my lovely friend again- my summer house. That's when we enjoy each others company. The house has a welcoming warmth, the light shines from within and visitors enjoy their stay. The dust and cobwebs are blown away with the breeze that flows through the open doors and windows. The house smiles again, and so do we.
Meanwhile I snuggle up beneath the rug and layers of clothing sipping hot tea in the weak, watery sunshine that is creeping in through a single window... while it lasts.
It seems to conveniently grow itself a layer of dust over every surface, that reappears as soon as I so wipe it clean. It doesn't allow the sun in to cast that lovely warm glow over the cobwebby corners but rather blocks it out with it's icy disdain.
I long to meet my lovely friend again- my summer house. That's when we enjoy each others company. The house has a welcoming warmth, the light shines from within and visitors enjoy their stay. The dust and cobwebs are blown away with the breeze that flows through the open doors and windows. The house smiles again, and so do we.
Meanwhile I snuggle up beneath the rug and layers of clothing sipping hot tea in the weak, watery sunshine that is creeping in through a single window... while it lasts.
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