Here are some photos of last Sunday afternoon when, among other things, Daughter 2 and I went for a brisk walk. It was brisk because the weather, though sunny, was absolutely freezing; also we were having the rest of the family (minus Doctor Son, alas) to dinner.
Here's Daughter 2 marching along. She doesn't hang about, Daughter 2, and since she's taller than I am and has longer legs, I have to scurry a bit to keep up.
She had come home for the weekend, thus brightening our dull, middle-aged lives.
Not a leaf on the trees either by the road or on Corstorphine Hill in the background.
Back home, I had cheated by planting primroses from a garden centre in a pot, giving a false impression of spring. What a cheerful sight for winter-jaded eyes.
Here are my winter-flowering pansies, still blooming after eighteen months in that pot. A bit weedy, but colourful compared to the rest of the garden. I must dead-head them.
Meanwhile Mr Life had hauled the pink blanket out of the cupboard so that he and Sirius could have a nice nap on the sofa. This is the blanket that I had on my bed when I was a girl, years before downies. It was very long and I used to wrap the top of it round my head on cold nights. No central heating then; the windows used to ice up on the inside, the condensation freezing into star-like crystals.