Walking in the woods today, three times I heard a strange noise coming from somewhere behind me. I turned round each time to see what was making the noise - or who was following me - but couldn't see anything. The fourth time it happened, I spun round ... and there was nothing there.
Then I realised it was the pooh-bag I was carrying in my hand, behind my back, that was making the noise.
I'd run out of small non-rustly bags so was having to make do with a large rustly carrier bag. (How do you spell rustle? Russle - no, that's not right. Must be rustle but is it rustley?) Hey ho.
It wasn't that cold out today although that might have been something to do with the three jumpers, coat, scarf and gloves I was wearing (I had removed my hat). I don't like to be cold.
I could quite easily become a recluse. I don't like going out in the evening especially if that evening is cold and dark. I usually enjoy myself when I'm out, it's just the thought of it - and the driving in the cold and dark in a heaterless Betty.
Perhaps I should have been born a hedgehog who can curl up in a ball, or a tortoise who can withdraw into its shell at any time it wants. Maybe that's why I've always liked camper vans; they're the same principle.