Maud of the Antarctic

I have accomplished the furthest south record in the expedition of our garden.

I am aiming for the pole. Unbeknownst to me some other mutt, creature, evil interloper dog has got there before me and planted their flag! Their scent... I think they're Scandinavian ...

I am runing short of supplies and the ground is -4.

aprecious has left saying, "I am just going outside and may be some time." I am hoping she has just gone to work.

It is perishing cold.

"...it seems a pity but I do not think I can write more..." (Scott of the Antarctic)

Joking aside aprecious, it's naffing freezing. So can I come back in now?!

Work. And no play. Dull aprecious