Now, fast into winter we descend, the shortest day of the year having just passed, frost a constant visitor on the morning grass. The chilly plant that Rick gave us is struggling, even though we nightly cover it with mesh and an old t-shirt. Even so, it has produced two large green chillies and if we can keep it alive until the spring, who knows what a bounty might be realised. This is a household that goes through a lot of chillies; Thai's love them in vast numbers in their food. It would not surprise me to find a red chilly ice-cream on sale in Bangkok one day.

This old house with its thin fibro walls is poorly suited to the Mountain climate, so we tend to huddle in rooms, electric throws abounding. Even so it is still much colder outside, the mercury dropping to zero by early morning. This is where heavy doonas and electric blankets are handy. Tom seems snug enough in his van outside, stocked as it is with all manner of ways of keeping warm. Still, if I wander to the toilet in the middle of the night, I feel sad to see his van out the back, the night-light leaking through the thin curtains, a mist rising in the garden. Like I said a few posts ago, being a parent is a profession for worriers.