Nelson Street, Stroud

I wore my yaktrax (Western European-type snowshoes) to get off our estate this morning. Ice was abundant, of the white and the black kind. The roads into town were pretty clear until I got to Beeches Green, near work, where the pavements were once again iced over. I met a colleague along the way, and she had to cling on to me to stop herself from slipping.

School grounds were snowy and beautiful. We took the nursery kids out twice for snowball fights, though the snow was powder and not the right type for snowballing.
One of the little boys kept asking me about 'snowsnakes'.
I had to admit I had not heard of them.

After work I met my friend J. We had to visit a couple of shops, then got takeaway drinks and sat on a bench at the top of the High Street, overlooking the emptiness and talking about pulse oximeters. I've already got one, so I showed it to J. She is going to buy one from Boots. Such, such is the flavour of lockdown no.3.

I collected our takeaway Cullen Skink from the pub/corner shop, and we had it for supper, with home made Cranachan. I don't know what Robert Burns would make of it. Not a haggis in sight.