Dismay and Fun in the Snow

I keep missing things. Now June Jackson who writes Hidden Swindon and Wrens and Hedgesparrows (see Links) is leaving us. She has said goodbye and slipped away and not allowed us to say goodbye back. I don't know why I feel so heartbroken. I always hoped I would get to know her. I went through all her blogs again looking for a comment box just to say thank you for so much beautiful stuff over the years. I have really appreciated it, and I'm sure that many others have too. Now we will just have to read her blogs over and over again.

I was going to write about the snow and the cold and upload my photographs, but everyone else will be doing it.

But I will just go outside and see what the temperature is, this, the coldest night of the year.

Wow. It's -10.5, the lowest temperature I have ever seen, and the water bottle inside my car is frozen solid. It's only 10.30 at night, so what will the temperature be in the early hours?

I am only not freezing in the house because I am wearing my Norwegian army fleece that I got in the army surplus shop on Gorse Hill. It is the real thing, and hard to be cold in. It is a truly disgusting diahorrea khaki colour, but I have heard you can get black ones.

This is one of the coldest spots in the UK, in fact. I live in a frost trap at the bottom of a lovely hill. Apparently it was -14 degrees in January 1995 when I was away and my lagged pipes burst. Today the washing machine wouldn't work until I warmed up the porch.

The sheep must be in. The farmer says they are perfectly happy to -15 degrees, but I should think he's taking no chances tonight.