Life in the Freezer

Having read the great book 'The worst journey in the world' by Apsley Cherry Garrard about his epic and terrifying journey to find the Emperor penguins' nesting site, I can never feel that I can join the chorus of 'oh its so cold' and 'this is a nightmare' (if I here that one particular phrase one more time I may snap). But it was with a heavy heart that I opened the curtains this morning to the floaty white stuff again on the very morning that I was scheduled to take Stu's mother to the airport for her month in Essex, which she has been looking forward to and planning for lordy knows how long. As a small trial run I took Stu into work at seven thirty (on a luxurious four and a half hours sleep) which was successful and raised the optimism levels as by that time the snow was slowing even if the grit was noticable by its absence... again..

Settled down for a quick snooze and was rudely awakened - two hours later- by the mother-in-law grinding at the bit to get going; by now the snow was coming down in shovels and reticent is not the word. Managed to 'ground' the car on a buried pile of ice chunks on the first leg of the journey and had to dig myself out, although it was less the digging and more the ability to drive sideways that saved me from falling at the first hurdle. Airport duly reached via a single lane bypass with bugger-all visibility and my guilt at leaving a small elderly person at an airport in the snow on her own (at her insistence, I hasten to add) left me and a brief euphoria washed over. All I had to do was get home and that's me finished for the Festive season; I can walk to work, walk back and get food as and when it is needed. We need no wine, turkey or crackers and I am not feeding the five thousand on crazy produce only even eaten at this time of year, so the store cupboards will suffice.

Scared the living heebie jeebies out of myself on the laborious journey, spent trying to come up with a route through Edinburgh not involving hills (doesn't exist, trust me); overtaking an abandoned bus on the hill of choice I managed a nifty 180 turn, ending up facing the bemused driver behind me. I thank the lucky stars he was a good way back and I thank a few constellations that my beloved car then proceeded to perform a perfect three-point turn as if nothing had happened. Realised a few hundred yards down the road that I was driving with my hand over my mouth in the horror of what could have been. Car is now firmly parked and the wellies are back in action. Good to know what its like out there on those days when the forecasters tell you to stay at home unless in emergency, or in need of removing a mother-in-law to the other end of the country for a month.

Spent the rest of the afternoon in cameraderie with the rest of our little cul-de-sac clearing the street of snow, only to see it start up again just as we were leaning on our shovels thinking proud thoughts... So to the studio and another little angel has popped into life for the piece involving many small box canvases. Two down, seven to go.

I'm now dreaming of a white Christmas with all worries dissolved. Bring it on.