Yawn.

The flat was cold this evening. Cold, cold, cold. We put the heating back on but it stayed cold, cold, cold. Rain pelted the street outside and the curtains fluttered slightly through the gaps in the big old windows. We attempted warmth before conceding defeat to the duvet under which I am seated most cosily as I type. Freddie is dozing silently in front of me, her perfect paws tucked neatly beneath her fluffy white chest. Ash pops in and out seeking attention before disappearing off to be cantankerous in another room. Nik flits between his art work and the sofa, threatening the removal of his beautiful curls tomorrow denying me the posession of my favourite one - if he loved me he would ask them to keep it! ;)

I remain seated watching as they go about their business, pondering thoughts from the day gone, chattering on the phone to my excited mother.

It is not exciting. It is not breathtaking.

It is nice.

I like it.