Water Sculpting

We had a fabulous morning with Charlie, after she got into Gatwick at very tired o'clock last night, and chatted away until it was time to return her to Gatwick for her flight to Boston. And then it was time to battle the beast...

Well, there was certainly snow, but the main problem was that with the outside temperature being minus four Celsius the washer jets had frozen - despite my filling them with almost neat anti-freeze screen wash (but I forgot about cycling it through, so of course the jets still had summer mix in them... must do better). The road salt coated the screen until it was opaque and I had to pull over on the M4 and wipe the screen with a cloth.

We got home as the red alert took hold of the south west, so while I can only speak as I find but I'm sure we had more snow when I was a kid, walking the five miles to school. I gather though it’s going to deteriorate soon. However, the wind remained bitter and we found on our return the pond waterfall had become a rather sweet ice sculpture.

We were missed. As soon as I walked into the lounge, our practically dependent blackbird swooped down and perched on the table waiting for breakfast. Extra.