The white stuff

I woke up at 6am this morning, courtesy of the poodles and a strong desire to use the toilet. When I opened the back door, so the girls could ablute, it was all sleety and cold. The sky was steely grey. Once they’d finished, I shut the back door and, coffee in hand, retired to the long lounge to doze off during the Today programme. I didn’t bother opening the curtains.

At 7:30, I went to the kitchen to make Mirinda a tea. She had guitar this morning so wasn’t going to get a sleep in. Through the backdoor I spotted a bit of a change: Everything was white and snow was falling with a wintry intensity.

I woke Mirinda and told her I was thinking she might not be going for her guitar lesson. I sorted out her puzzled expression by opening the bedroom curtains. The street was all white and deserted, the cars all covered in a thick, white blanket.

This was all a bit unexpected. Though I vaguely recalled John Humphries saying something about the snow reaching the south east by midday. I guess it arrived a little bit earlier.

For my trip into Farnham, I selected my Russian grey coat and hiking boots as protection against the weather and I’m very glad I did. The snow changed in intensity as I walked from heavy to light but always in a flurry of excitement.

Okay, there wasn’t enough snow to form huge banks or to close major roads throughout the south east but there was enough to make Castle Street resemble a massive, muddy slushie. There was also enough to cover my coat in snowflakes.

Back at home (I may have spent a little longer in Starbucks than usual because of the conditions outside) Mirinda had cancelled guitar (and a meeting with a woman in Haslemere) and we settled in for the day.

And so, our Saturday was a long, restful day spent watching TV, hunting for holiday accommodation for May, reading and generally keeping warm in front of the fire. The poodles were less than enthusiastic about not going for a walk but that was just too bad!

In plaster news…the mottling is going very well with the ceilings almost completely a light brown and just patches of damp around the edges.