Mini-Beast Arrives For Sunday Lunch…

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“Oh, isn’t it pretty?”

Are those the first words uttered by gulag residents every morning they wake up and peruse the bleak and frozen wastelands of Siberia?

The amount of people who have recently smiled those words when describing the continuing perm-state of this year’s winter offerings has astounded me. I want to tell them, nay I do tell them, that the bloody white freezing stuff is not pretty unless one hyphenates the word with shitty.

And I dislike the cosy descriptions of: ‘blankets of snow’, ‘a covering’, and ‘winter-wonderland’. The only wonder is that we have not woken up to the fact that Putin is exporting huge swathes of his weather across European borders, without visas, various travel restrictions, and we are not threatening him with a life-time ban from either owning football clubs or making the top floor of Harrods off-limits.

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Mini-Beast go back to your papa. 

14 thoughts on “Mini-Beast Arrives For Sunday Lunch…

  1. I spent a 1 winter and a half at 5,000 feet on the East side of the Sierras a lifetime ago – that was enough wintering for me. Yuck! I’m truly a California/Hawaii girl and am happy to keep it that way.

    Liked by 2 people

      1. I am always interested in people’s perceptions of how they thought their lives would go and the realities. Life behind the proverbial white picket fence is not always as it seems. I am just starting to read back through your posts and am glad that you find solace in putting your thoughts/feelings to paper as you work through and hopefully past your dark hours!

        Liked by 1 person

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