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Written by Jessica
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Friday, 06 June 2008 |
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It had been a month since we arrived at our new house and yet we still hadn't emptied all of the crates that contained our furniture. The one thing that we unpacked was the four poster bed that had silk curtains surrounding it. I spend most of my time in it now, benath the simple covers, in my tatty old PJs and slipper socks, reading Pride and Prejudice yet again; it was not that I can't get out from beneath the covers, it's that I won't: "It's cold!" I had told George when he told me that perhaps it would be best if I removed myself as the bed sheets need washing.
To celebrate the one month we have spent in this cosy cabin, George has planned a picnic up in the neighboring hills. I feel a bit aprehensive, what if something happens and I have to drag Georges mangled corpse, god forbid, down the green grass and through a particulary thorny area I can see at the bottom of the hills?
"Fun." he says mildly, giving me a squeeze, "I'm sure we'll find something to do."
Copyright 2008 Jessica
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