Assistant Blog

It’s incredibly cold at my parents’ house in Cambridgeshire; we seem to be one step short of snowfall, where everything has taken on a kind of faint white hue, as if seen through a filter – a long fog has been hovering all morning. Only the cat can handle the cold, and is sat determinedly by the river outside, preferring solitude to company and warmth. She has a temperament midway between romantic, it seems, and bleak. I’m with her on one thing, however – it’s beautiful outside.