Sorry ’bout the lack of updates, but I’ve been, and still am, sick with a cold that just won’t let go. I do have a post planned, though, and if I can manage it, it’ll be up tonight. So here’s a sneek peak for yous.
In other news, King Winter’s arrived in Tromsø, to the dismay of some, but the unbridled joy of others. It is said that ’round here it’s pointless to talk of the seasons in terms of winter, spring, summer and autumn, and you’ll find it more appropriate to refer to the four months of bad skiing conditions and eight months of good skiing conditions. Suffice to say I’m considering moving to Dublin, where the weather is nice and the rain comes at you at a downward angle rather than from the side(s).
The wee furbaby, who’s not such a wee lass anymore on the other hand seems to find the white, cold, wet stuff fascinating and quite to her liking.
So for now, I’ll put on my warmest coat and get on the bus for work, and leave you with a photograph of me darling girl, proudly showing the cold who’s boss – obviously, it’s not me.