Pretty white stuff?

I can see the beautiful snow falling from where I sit. Deep and crisp and even, it carpets the outside world in a beautifully pure fur cape. But much as I despise snow cynics, there is a more sinister side to the snow. Yes, it's beautiful; yes, it makes us go back to basics and walk to places we'd normally drive; yes, it unites the nation in an icy embrace, but it's also a huge impediment to most activities. This morning, my exhausted father dragged himself out of bed at 5.55 to catch the 6.28 local stopping service into work on account of the snow burying his car under several inches of snow, only to be stuck on the train, frustratingly close to his final destination. He made it to his important meeting, late, at 9am, doubtless exhausted, bedraggled and without breakfast.

Yes, my village looks like the front of a rather charming but tacky Christmas card, but it's not much fun being trapped on a greetings card for several months of the year. As the snow continues to fall, I keep reminding myself of the positives: the birds that cluster around the window as they stock up on the nuts that we've left out for them, the chance of tranquility at home, endless opportunities for sledging. Still, I find myself wishing I was twenty miles closer to a city. What are we going to do when the freezer runs out of food...?

Happy Snow Days!