roast chicken & a weekend at the taylor's

Christ, if I thought it was cold in London it's nothing to the bone-chilling weather in the wilds of Worcestershire! Luckily for all concerned, the Taylor's are not short on massive fires and with the added bonus our suite has now been insulated.

We do the usual thing: arrive late on Friday night, eat an amazing selection of defrosted left-over curries, go to the pub for lunch, watch rugby, read magazines, let the children fight, do intensive youtube searches about barefoot running and suffer the usual floods of tears when we have to leave early because our rear-lights have given up the ghost. Future plans are also hatched.

Scraping in just before rear lights become legally necessary, we placate with another movie night (popcorn, duvets, scruffy dogs, central heating) whilst a chicken roasts away in the oven.

At least I didn't burn the flock out of it this time, although the potatoes aren't looking too plumptious... The random veg selection bespeaks an empty fridge.