A decided thaw - warm winds and the top smear of soil un-freezes and becomes very wet and slippery. The water butts and pond start to thaw, too, and except for in the most shaded places, all the white rime turns to wet.
On our walk in the Rec we meet a lovely rescue Greyhound called Polly. Only 6 weeks out of the racing game she's still a bit nervous of "normal" social, doggie gatherings, so she's getting used to the likes of us. She was well treated, though, by the syndicate who owned her, and they carried on paying for her keep right up to the moment she was "rescued". She's a lovely Weimeraner-style mousey-grey with white patches.
Very reserved one minute, her natural dog socialising skills burst out the next and she skitters off on a "showing-off" run, as she did whenever Dad threw my yellow frisbee ring. I'd take off at full speed after it, and she'd see this and blast after me, quickly (obviously!) over-hauling us and racing on ahead, then seeming to remember herself and curving round to come loping back to her own Dad with a mischievous playful glint in her eye.
Bit of fun today, as Dad sweeps the chimney out. Lots of exciting smells and curious activity, a foiled chance to get sooty, and a lovely sneaky chance to thieve the roll of masking tape which Dad put down in between taping up 2 corners of the dust sheet. Dad is left completely confused, unable to find it when he's just put it down a second ago, till I hear him say "Where's Deefer?" and the game is up. Can't imaging how it got out onto the terrace.... can you?
Some luck might rub orfe if I shake 'ands wiv youuuuuu.... ah!