LET’S START HIBERNATING…
We’re not much different from hedgehogs and dormice
It wouldn’t be the first time in my life I’ve been called an old bat, but now it’s January the husband might actually have a point.
Because, work aside, the thought of going outside on these endless, freezing, pitch-black winter nights is about as appealing as watching all the Christmas telly programmes on repeat. Which, as they were mostly repeats of repeats in the first place, is really a grim prospect.
And as much as I love my mates, my settee and a nice Shiraz are infinitely more appealing.
Which is where bats come into it because, along with dormice and
