>Let it snow

>People are still struggling as yet more snow falls on South Yorkshire. We apparently had the biggest snow dump of yesterday with “worse still to come”. It is still snowing, and it is still quite deep with 2 foot drifts at the front and waist high drifts at the back, but at least the new snow doesn’t seem to be sticking. I may venture up to the village later today to see what stocks our village shop has in. I have plenty of everything in and can make my own of pretty much anything else, but I may have to make do with full-fat milk instead of skimmed – hey, no big deal, I can water it down.

So far we’ve not had a power cut and the water hasn’t gone off, but I do have a gas fire and gas stove for warmth and to cook by if the electricity does go off, I have lots of candles, and I always keep at least a full kettle of water. The laptop will have a couple of hours battery life if the power does go off, and I can charge my phone in the car (if we get a signal – the signal was a bit unstable yesterday).

Here is the view from my bedroom window:

The tree next door has grown in the 5 years I’ve been here. We can’t see the farm on the hill from this window any more.

Here are next door’s dogs – Jessie the Softie and Sonny the Not-So-Soft:

I feel very safe having these 2 live next door.

Here is the view from the spare bedroom window:

Plan for today is work, and maybe that walk up to the village. My “new day resolution” of 2 days ago was to finish at least one draft of something, which I did. I’m still working on the media kit/publicity pack for the book. And I have articles from work to be getting on with – plus I had a message from work too regarding the magazine. It’s still on hold.

Holly ventured out into the snow this morning and got stuck on the other side. I had to don a pair of wellies and go rescue her in my nightie … Domino hasn’t moved. For days.

I hope everyone is safe and well.


10 thoughts on “>Let it snow

  1. carolwarham 2 December 2010 / 11:36 am

    >Not so much snow falling here so we have started to try and dig ourselves out.


  2. Diane 2 December 2010 / 11:51 am

    >I think we're all waiting for it to stop before we start. The back's getting trampled (although the picture is of the dogs *on top* of the snow), but the front is being left for now.


  3. devonellington 2 December 2010 / 12:28 pm

    >Ah, to be snowed in and not have to worry because you have plenty of supplies! Best way — you can enjoy the beauty of it.


  4. Diane 2 December 2010 / 12:41 pm

    >It feels very safe and cosy. And I'm working at the bedroom window so can glance up at it every so often. (And try not to get very distracted by the peaceful beauty.)


  5. Lori 2 December 2010 / 1:38 pm

    >It is absolutely beautiful, Diane. Enjoy it. 🙂


  6. Diane 2 December 2010 / 2:43 pm

    >I've just been out there with the neighbours and a shovel. My arms don't think it's very beautiful at the minute, but they'll be fine … when they've had a rest.


  7. Diane 2 December 2010 / 3:47 pm

    >It truly is. :o)x


  8. carolwarham 2 December 2010 / 4:41 pm

    >Got carried away, 430 words. Hope it fits in.The postcard arrived drifting gently down like a lonely snowflake caught on a slight breeze. I waited until it was within reach and then raising my hand managed to grasp hold of it. Puzzled, I glanced at the picture on the front. It was a celestial scene, showing stars and constellations, with tiny planets within. I flipped the card over to read it and see whom it was from. My astonishment caused me to gasp and my hand flew to my mouth. ‘Darling’ I read, ‘Got here the other day, the view is beautiful, much like the picture on the card. To be honest, I’m not sure where I am or what it is called. However, I found a dear, little soul giving away these cards and ensuring delivery.What can I say, except, WISH YOU WERE HERE. With love as ever Marissa.’ Marissa, my nemesis, my archenemy. How on earth? Where on earth? Or actually, not so much where on earth, as where in Heaven’s name, was she? I sat down and tried to remember the last time I had seen her. It was a few days ago. As usual we were snapping and snarling at each other. In my opinion, Marissa always believed herself to be one better than anyone else. Everything I did, she had done better. Everywhere I went, she had already been, in style. She claimed to know all the right people. She always scorned my clothes, most of which came out of Charity shops.That day she had gone one step too far. Being catty about me was one thing, but being catty about my friends was too much for me. Cath, my best friend, had just bought a lovely little, copper oil lamp from the Charity shop. I was holding it, admiring it and giving it a rub with my sleeve, when I heard Marissa’s voice. She was going on about her latest, fabulous holiday in the Maldives. Unable to listen any further I just looked away and said,‘I wish you were a million miles away from us right now.’Thinking about it I can’t claim I noticed anything different at that time. Marissa’s voice went quiet, but I thought she had wandered off bored with our company. There was no puff of smoke, no sound, nothing. However, it now seemed that Marissa was indeed a million miles away. The shock was starting to wear off. I had better go and find Cath and tell her what has happened. Then we needed to plan carefully, very carefully, how we could use her little oil lamp.WHOPPEE!My ideal writing space would be a desk in front of a large window. I would have a view of a rugged coastline and the sea. To be able to see the gentle lapping of waves, smell the salt and hear the cry of gulls on a calm sunny day would be lovely. It would be just as wonderful, to look out at an angry, black sky and listen to the wild crashing of the waves onto the jagged rocks. I believe to be able to watch and listen to a changing landscape like that, would be very inspiring. Goodness, I feel a Daphne Du Maurier coming on.


  9. Diane 2 December 2010 / 5:00 pm

    >I hope you're enjoying this, Carol. :o)


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