'Hallo, Eeyore,' said Christopher Robin, as he opened the door and came out. 'How are you?'
'It's snowing still,' said Eeyore gloomily.
'So it is.'
'And freezing.'
'Is it?'
'Yes,' said Eeyore. 'However,' he said, brightening up a little, 'we haven't had an earthquake lately.'
A.A. Milne
Saturday mornings.
Fat, buttermilk pancakes (some cut into the shape of Yoda). A tin of golden syrup. Radio 4. Snow falling softly and silently, with a non-committal air, outside the window.
Platonic ideal winter weekend.
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