I love snow. No, I do, seriously. But only if I don't have to spend that much time in it. I took the dogs out last night and they went mental. Well, Junior Dog did - Middle Dog trudged merrily along as Junior flew round like a thing possessed and Senior Dog gave the impression that he had far better things to do than walk down a snowy road at quarter past ten. The charade was repeated this morning, this time with Mac who is off school as it's shut. Junior Dog ran round and round in circles barking at Middle Dog who was more interested in trying to catch the snowflakes whilst Senior Dog sat down on a warm manhole cover and refused point blank to move.
So, we're in for the duration (even though Junior Dog has just presented me with his lead and collar for the third time since half past seven), I've made leek and potato soup, David has been despatched to Ayres to panic buy doughnuts and returned to inform me that there were "no croissants, no rolls, no french sticks, no sausage rolls......" I interrupted him with "Were there doughnuts?". When he nodded and waved a bag of six of the little devils at me, I felt a wave of calm wash over me.
There is a chance - only a small one mind, that I may be addicted.