... on our very cold tiled floor in the hall. It's warm outside, but the hallway is cool, so we've each got a mat on the floor.
The dogs are happy first thing in the morning, and roll over for tummy inspection time - a morning ritual. As soon as it's obvious I am actually going to get out of bed, rather than lie there groaning, they like to roll over and wave their legs in the air. Then of course I have to get up to tell them what marvellous tummies they have. By evening, they're both giving their celebrated impressions of a dead dog by the roadside, lying with their necks at impossible, fractured angles, and with their breathing scarcely visible. If I go over and check on them, they huff at me.
I had a great trip to Woolfest at the weekend. It's a long drive from here, 3 and half hours each way, but worth it. I've come away with a year's worth of inspiration and addresses. I now also want some North Ronaldsay sheep, that don't need shearing, their wool just falls off, and they're little and cute, and... I have nowhere to put a sheep. And Angora rabbits are out of the question, given Holly's hunting abilities.