The Big Freeze

After a whole day spent entertaining my two offspring within a 60 square-metre confined space (our house) while, outside, the temperature plummeted to -2°, an unexpected treat awaited me. (And no, I'm not referring to the two episodes of Sex & The City I somehow managed to watch whilst bouncing LB on my knee and pretending that hypnotizing a baby with cathode rays consituted responsible childcare...).

FH came home from work and uttered those romantic words every woman longs to hear: why don't you go out by yourself for a couple of hours? I'll look after the kids.

Before you could say "cabin fever", I was out.
Dizzy with freedom, I realised that I didn't actually have anything to do. Wednesday evening is, in theory, the time I go for a swim. But you know, it's winter. It's cold.
My heart's desire was simply to... be alone for an hour.
So I drove around a little, parked up, sat back and listened to a political debate on the car radio.
Outside, the ground frosted over, the darkness was crisp and charged.
Inside the car, the heater buzzed and a government minister babbled on about national identity and immigration.

It wasn't much, hardly anything really.
It was fantastic.