|Forget the bare arms - |
pull on a sweater, woman!
My son and his equally computer-mad friend arrive at the door, asking whether they could just have 'an hour' playing a game on line.
Don't ask me what it was. They tell me that it's building space-craft but there seems to be a LOT of shooting involved in building spacecraft the way they do it.
Anyway, I acquiesced, determined to keep my Sunday Morning Pentacly Vibe going for as long as possible.
And so I read the paper, ignoring the explosive noises coming from next door and supped at my coffee and let Ethel Merman do her lung-busting thang.
And the house got colder.
Until it was colder than a nun's, erm, HEART.