I’m fixated with cake. Coffee too, but mostly cake. A day like we had this last week, what with the snow and cold means Dog and I need an incentive to be outside and cake does it.
That and the beautiful scenery, the fresh air, a good book on my Audible account (currently a Jack Parlabane story by Chris Brookmeyer) and the thought that a year ago it was balmy and warm and, still, I justified my dalliance with the walking world by the proximity of cake at the end of my own little (muddy) rainbow.
We’ve had snow before, of course, but somehow each new time we get some in London (and it’s averaging once every seven years or so just now) it’s different.
Not better, not deeper, not colder but different.
This time it was Dog’s turn to enjoy it… only he didn’t. I dug out his coat, a somewhat fetching quilted thing that wouldn’t go amiss amongst the Corgi and Tiara set at Sandringham but, despite such cosiness he started limping. It took a few moments to realise he had ice between his toes.
A quick rub and he was off again, only to stop for more running repairs. It was a bit like waiting for your hands to get warm. They will but the blood needs to flow back to the extremities.
We took in the woods; two years ago it was balmy and sunny, with some greenery showing.
Not so much this year. Even the pond, once the venue of Dog’s predecessor, Blitz’s doom, had frozen.
He mistook the chickweed for a smooth lawn and chased a crow. The ensuing bow wave and dog-splutter was worth the entrance money. Don’t let any one tell you dogs don’t do embarrassment. He looked anywhere but at me as he trotted ahead, affecting to avoid a good shake in case it gave away how wet he was.
The temperature coupled with an insistent wind dropped below ‘bloody parky’ and rapidly accelerated beyond ‘wtf’. We increased our pace and headed for the Village and some respite.
Now, I’ve often said I like Dulwich Village but if there’s one thing that bugs and that’s the lack of dog friendly cafes. Mostly we are happy to sit and philosophise outside. Not today. Sadly the inclemency of the weather had also meant some staff had difficulties making it to work and those that did were stretched to their limit serving the needful. We waited but, really, it was pretty pointless.
We headed home. Sharpish. Coffee and warm feet were easily acquired but cake…? Not so much.
However, nil desperandum. The Vet had a half day – she was working in deepest Kent and came home early to avoid the upcoming blizzard. When the Vet has a spare hour she bakes. Like this afternoon. A rather splendid hazelnut and chocolate ganache. So all’s right with the world.