The ground is frozen and still the moles dig. Given the choice between hibernation and manual labour, who in their right mind chooses not to hibernate? We clearly have some very tough little moles here. Perhaps they could lend my mistress a hand. We have a bit of a wood crisis. My master went back to England on Friday after having ordered a tonne of wood. Normally when we order wood, it takes a few days to arrive, not this time. The wood was delivered fifteen minutes after my master had gone and although they got my mistress to move her car, they then dumped the wood out in the open rather than under the shelter and left. Wet wood does not burn. If my mistress leaves it out until my master gets back, it will be about fit to burn by the time we leave the country and the wood behind. Guess who had got a tonne of wood to move! She made a start on it the same evening and to give her fair due, she moved six barrow loads before giving up. We only have a little mistress size wheelbarrow, she says there is no point having one that if she fills she can’t then lift but it does mean she has completed about a third of the job, just another two thirds to go then! I would help but she hasn’t got any dog sized gloves and I don’t want to get splinters in my paws.
You will be pleased to know that I have written to the Sunday Times, an open letter of application for the position of England Football Manager. I have had to give them ‘an exclusive’ on the letter so I won’t print it here until tomorrow. I do hope they print it after all that.