Ok, then… only 3 it was.
And one scarf and one hat and one woolly jumper…
One cold nose.
So much so, that I just had to dress up as a ghostie when a conveniently cosy spare blanket became available.
But yes, it was all worth it for the pleasure of being kidnapped on the way to Arthurs seat. Then getting to nibble carrot cake while relishing fireworks and deliciously weak mocha (for those of us who don’t like coffee, and don’t like hot chocolate).
And then we all went back there at 3am in the morning… by prior arrangement. Virtually, according to the rules of dream-iquette. We were going to get a proper bonfire, and enjoy the company even more than we had in real life… But the details of this part of the story must forever lie shrouded in mystery, because when I woke up this morning, I didn’t remember my dream. Grr…
Tho’ I just might know what I wanted it to be 😉
*tries to stop thinking sideways*