“It doesn’t look too hopeful out there today,” I announced, peering out of the window across the valley.
Last glimpse of the sun
A little later, having trudged out to check conditions, it more a case of “I don’t think I ought to go out in this.”
A little bit of snow
“Don’t even think of coming over with that cough,” said the nice lady at the garage where the little silver Ford had been booked for an annual service. “Go back to bed in the warm and we’ll try again next week.”
Which is what I did.
The snow fell, not too dramatically but enough to colour our world white, prussian blue and yellow ochre, and I drifted off to snooze with Graham enthusing about the visual proof of the effectiveness of our new insulation. Nothing like a covering of snow to show that an attic has been properly insulated.
Then, somewhere around where lunch might have been thought of on a normal day, the fallen snow had thawed and the sky cleared. We were still inside a snowglobe but the snowfall had almost disappeared. More was however forecast for the afternoon, and much more for tomorrow.
“I think we should wrap up and do a grocery dash,” I said. ”It might not be a good idea to leave it until tomorrow.”
And off we went across dry roads to Swansea, flicking the windscreen wipers on momentarily every now and then to clear a spattering of melted snow.
When we’d done a provisions shop, I looked up at the sky. “It’s freezing cold but there’s not a lot of snow up there,” I said. ”What say you we get a cooked lunch in the coffee shop?”
“Good thinking, bat person,” said Graham.
Fish and chips on a winter's day
As the last lovely crumb of crispy batter went down, followed by a swig of black tea, I looked out the window. The snow globe was getting busy again.
“Right,” I said. ”Time to boogie.”
The journey home was calm and uneventful and it wasn’t until we pulled up on the drive that the sky filled with snow cloud and a micro-blizzard zeeped along the road.
“I do love it when all the timings go right,” I said.
“Stop tempting fate and put the kettle on,” Graham said, stuffing our produce into fridge, freezer and cupboard.
I did so, and while it was boiling, peered through the window one more time. “Mr Rusty seems to be enjoying a bit of the seasonals,” I said.
Mr Rusty, enjoying a bit of the seasonals
