I think we've mentioned before, little 3 year old westie Fleur dressed in her spectacular jumper. It's a cold frosty morning and Dad has us walking early in the Rec, enjoying the white grass and making "snow-angels" by rolling on our backs. It's there that we get buzzed by that blur of high speed green, with a red polo-neck that is Fleur.
"One of Nanny's specials" says Fleur's owner - a bespoke jumper with red polo-neck, a girth strap and little holes knitted for fore-legs and for the harness-type lead to poke through. Fleur is un-abashed and races around with me at crazy speeds.
Today, Dad is up at the allotment, where new fences are to be erected, so a big gang of them volunteer to rip out the old fencing. Being an allotment, "fencing" can mean anything from fencing per se, down through pallets, bed frames and tangles of brambles. So there's gardening equipment, sure, loppers, secateurs, pruning saws, scythes and forks, but also bolt-croppers, crow-bars, lump hammers and so on. They get on well, and are able to tread wearily home by about 1pm.
It's Valentines Day, and Dad's bacon is saved as he remembered that a certain young lady loves fizz and chocs. She, in return is cooking a special meal and the house is filled with delicious fragrances and cooking smells.