Window

The kids are at their dad's, Carlos is out with his mates and I'm supposed to be cleaning my house. Instead I'm trying to decide whether to weave, spin, sew or paint. I never tire of sharing the view from my window, it's my favourite place to sit with a cup of tea and have a right good blether. Tonight I'll be sitting in front of Marisol's log burning stove with a glass of wine for a right good blether, and just maybe, a touch of strictly.