Posted by Tania Kindersley.
I wake and everything is white. They had been talking of blizzards for a couple of days, but I had begun to think it was mere sensationalism. The snow came slowly and with determination in the night. The radio is saying the airports are closing. My faint idea of going to see The King's Speech is dashed.
The dogs, though, are happy. Nothing pleases them more than a bit of weather. Out we dash, only to find the going is entirely treacherous: the snow has fallen on sheet ice. I start to skid and swerve, despite my hardy gumboots. Careful, careful, I say, before going over - THWACK - like a cartoon character, straight on my arse. The canines very sweetly gather round, licking my nose, checking I am all right. Even though there was no one to see, I feel a faint sense of embarrassment. It is such a hoary old saw, actually falling over.
I stomp back to the house, my shoulder wrenched and aching, and decide it shall be an entire day off. I shall lounge on the sofa like Mrs Patrick Campbell and watch the weather come in. I think: thank goodness I had decided yesterday that the blog did not have to be a weighty thing of substance, because there is certainly no substance today. There shall only be stillness, and quite possibly some daytime television. (What? We can't all be Dostoevsky every day.)
Pictures of the day are all slightly blue, because even at nine o'clock in the morning, the light is like twilight:
(See how the blueness lifts as I walk further and the light asserts itself? This of course was before I went A over T.)
And today's hill:
Now I am going to lie very, very still.