Cracking the secret.

The weather is actually starting to become foolish.

We have had sleet, rain, sunshine and a wild west wind all in the space of a few hours.

The bonfire had to be abandoned - unlit and miserable. The wind, at first a gentle breeze, soon whipped up into a frenzy and God, was it cold.
The thaw has left the farm under thick mud and it is difficult to walk, nay, wade your way hither and thither with the usual posse of mooching ducks/ chickens/ cats at your feet.

Last night I sat in shock and could not get warm at all despite the Farmer piling hot water bottles and thick eiderdowns over my semi- hypothermic body.

I cracked it today.
The secret is six jumpers, thick tights and two pairs of trousers. Three pairs of socks (makes it difficult to put on wellies though), two hats and a woolly scarf to keep them on.
And the dung brown duffle.
Yes, you can barely walk properly for padding but, hey.

Sailed through the elements, me. The only exposed part was my eyes but I managed the feed/ repair jobs without falling over.
The Farmer was working inside the big shed, inside a heated tractor so was oblivious to the cold. He does not seem to feel it as badly as I do. Actually, he does not seem to feel the cold at all.

We finished up and went into town for more Champion Tup Mix plus a few vital supplies for ourselves. I have been like a zombie since we ran out of coffee a few days ago and I have not woken up properly since Saturday. Caffeine was Vital.

Now, is it just me or does anyone else get the Dude having a Crisis on the tills? Today, I appeared to have Withnail of Withnail & I fame.
"I appear to have offended someone in a past life" quoth Crisis Dude. He was having a mini bitch about working in a supermarket.
He was having his moan just as the effect of wearing six jumpers and two trousers hit me like a firestorm in the Sahara.
"I actually think I am going to die" I croaked from under the beenie hat. (Pulled down low as it was a bad hair day). I knew my face was lobster red and sweat was starting to pour down said lobsterness.

"I am destined for greater things" said Crisis Dude, ignoring the fact that I was dissolving before him. I could not get the plastic bags open and started to faff. A queue was forming and people were Looking.

Oh, it was SO tempting to rip off all six layers, wildly pull my hat off then run naked and screaming out of the store and miles away from Crisis Dude but we needed the coffee so the clothes stayed on.

"Why me, why do I always get Crisis Dude/Dudette, why do you never get the person who hates the world and vents their spleen then lobs the shopping in a rough manner through the peep thing"? I asked the Farmer.
He and the little one were all happy waiting in the car while I ran in for the shopping. They were eating oranges.
"And I overheated in there. A near death experience, actually".

I saw a whisper of a secret smile flicker over his mouth.

"I don't know lass, maybe you just have the knack".

Half way home and once I had removed three of the jumpers and my brain had cooled down to less thermo-nuclear temperatures, it dawned on me.

"You very rarely do the shopping! Well, not the angst inducing shop where people with attitude lurk at the tills. You shop for fun things like sump oil and wheel bearings".

I have cracked it!

The Farmer says he will do the next few supermarket shops ('because they are a cinch'). The little one and I shall eat oranges in the car and roll the window down if it gets too hot.
We will laugh and take our hats off or maybe our socks if we get bored waiting. We will not be freaked by Crisis Dudes who intend in plotting a small revolution or uprising between teabreaks.
There will be no breaking of sweat....There now, it's out and said.

Oh, please tell me that it is an overdose of woolly jumpers and not being a 'Lady of a Certain Age'.... ;)