This time last week I was jumping up and down with joy at the sight of the lovely white flakes falling from the sky. I would have been aghast at the very idea that there could be such a thing as too much snow. Yet here I am a week later, fed up of this incessant wintry weather. It was great fun of course. For a while. The snow cat was built. A snow giraffe followed. Next up was a snow fort. And finally an igloo. But I've rather run out of steam and inspiration since then. I'm fed up of having to wear wellies every time I leave the house. I'm annoyed at being unable to drive wherever and whenever I want to. I just got back from a quick trip into town and my trainers appear to have acquired a permanent squelch. My feet are suitably wet and it's horrible and slushy out there. In some ways that's a good thing. Everything is thawing. But the weathermen inform me that a 'winter storm' is on the way. Oh goodie. Just what we need.
Incidentally I also saw a mad woman in town. She was wearing the tiniest denim shorts possible. Yes, she had tights on underneath but they were hardly woolly ones. What's wrong with these people?!
Wet feet make me grumpy. Can you tell?