Snoozing in the conservatory

Or snoozing anywhere come to that. But the conservatory outside of summer, with its own micro climate, is the place to settle after a walk in the rain, curled up with the dog and cat, polishing off the crossword, gazing at the clouds sliding across the sky and gradually slipping into a half-asleep nod. Wake yourself up with a snort. And repeat.

Never has the allegory of the frog being slowly boiled in the saucepan seemed so apt. Even Anne, who I can attest has never napped in her life, has been known to close her eyes for a moment...


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