I know.

 

I said we weren’t going anywhere.  But that was before my hero remembered that he’d promised to walk around our friends’ house, since they’re away for the weekend.  So, we put on boots and coats and hats and gloves and scarves and set out across the field.

 

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It was really rather beautiful.  The snow had drifted in such a way that we could be walking in just a centimetre or so one minute and then up to our knees the next.

 

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Someone had made the sweetest pair of snowpeople.  But the rose, so lovingly offered, wasn’t being gracefully accepted, it appeared.

 

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In places, where the snow had blown across a hard surface, there was a kind of “ice shelf” and this one looked like a pair of claws.  Oooh, scary!

 

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Our friends’ drive is a little tricky and in places, there are 40 – 50cm deep drifts.  We trod very carefully and our footprints around the house made it look as though someone had been on a heffalump hunt (or was it a woozle?)

 

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I’m glad to say, that by the time we made it back across the field, the snowpeople had made up!

Sweet?

Zero. Or thereabouts.

It’s here