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Farmer Gyles | by naughtonlucy
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Farmer Gyles

Farmer Gyles loved the snow. He was so excited when he parted the curtains at 6am (not Mrs Gyles’s) and saw the bright blankety silence outside. He stumbled around the bedroom in the darkness so as not to disturb Mrs Gyles and the geese and the goats and Farmer Swedebasher. He grabbed the nearest tweedy items and hobbled down the higgledy piggeldy stairs putting on his wellies. He felt an icy blast around his nether regions as he opened the crooked old door to the brightness outside, ‘These long johns aren’t very toasty warm, I don’t remember buying them in beige either.’

He grabbed his favourite stick, and skipped outside to greet the morning.

Three hours of throwing snowballs at the sheep later he looked down to see that his long johns had turned blue and veiny, with a slight pink mottling. ‘Gosh I really fancy some of Mrs Gyles’s corned beef hash right now.’

 

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Taken on March 23, 2008