I had to go to the Sainsburys at the top of the road, as we had run out of mozzarella (that is, I know, hideously Boden and middle class, but there you go); P decided to accompany me.
The thermometer outside the back door said -5˚, so we wrapped up warm. I was wearing jeans, a long sleeved t-shirt, a thin fleece top, a down waistcoat, a down jacket, a scarf, a woolly hat with ear flaps, thermal gloves, socks and wellies. And I was still not really warm.
We got the mozzarella and a couple of other bits and bobs, and then wandered over to Pearson Park to see the ducks. There were hundreds of birds there, including some geese who must be passing through. All so pretty in the snow, although I have to say it’s losing its appeal now – I want my roof fixed!
We’re now on day #7 of this winter’s first snowpocalypse and, frankly, it can just bugger off. It has snowed every day since Friday 26th November, and there’s been at least 3″ on the ground ever since, and quite a lot more at the moment. I battled over to Newland Ave yesterday, and it was nearly up to the top of my wellies in places.
We’re lucky – we don’t have to commute; we have a freezer full of food, a pantry full of pulses, and a fridge full of fresh veg (we went out on Saturday and stocked up on the veg). I picked up more milk yesterday, although most of the shops had shut, and supplies in Jacksons Sainsburys were getting low. I’ve no idea if the car will ever start again – it’s buried. The cats are going stir crazy, the gas bill is going to be terrifying, and the roofer can’t fix the hole in the roof.
And for the next few days, they’re forcasting a big freeze – anything up to -6˚ even here on the coast. Enough, already!
The bike tent has collapsed too, under the weight of snow.
We had some serious snow overnight, and it kept on coming down, so at 7.50 we donned walking boots, warm jackets and silly hats (and a stout stick, in my case) and set off for a walk. We don’t often see this sort of weather in Long Ashton (BS41).
We went round Dawsons Walk, about – oh, 3/4 mile, I suppose, through the woods. It was lovely, although the snow was coming down sideways across the level ground before the wood.
We stopped at the baker on the way back for a hot pasty, which was a very good idea. Ron thought so to, and so had to be fought off.