Not more bloody snow...

Jack and Sawyer are pissed off. After near on 18 months of forced confinement, my darling mother has finally come round to the idea that life would be so much easier if our cats weren't chronically depressed. On discovering their new right to freedom, they appeared ecstatic, rolling around deliriously on the steps outside our front door, and desperately trying to soak up the rare sunlight that has recently graced our chilly corner of this perpetually damp island.

Less than a week after their release, the skies have theoretically shat upon their happiness. We have snow.