I'm sure if you live in good old Blighty, or pretty much anywhere in Europe right now, that you are cold. I am. It's 0 (that's a big fat zero right there) degrees centigrade right now, I'm drinking hot chocolate and watching Tilly out the window playing in the snowy, crunchy, icy garden.
We thought we had missed the snow and rued the purchase of hardcore snow boots in the autumn (although I am secretly in love with mine!). But then it came this last weekend and ruined plans for almost everyone no doubt. It did me, I was supposed to have a fun craft day with my aunt and cousin. Why does the whole country grind to a halt when the white stuff arrives?
One medium sized, black and very hairy mutt did not ask such questions. She most certainly did not feel like her plans were ruined. Quite the opposite in fact, she discovered and fell in love with the white stuff almost immediately, we had a job getting her back in the house, do dogs feel the cold? I think not!
She snuffled it, rolled in it, tried to eat it, leapt up and down in it, peed on it and played about so much that we just stood about watching her, it was most amusing and better than the telly, that's for sure!
The forest we walk in has lots of really old trees scattered about in amongst the stock pines, we wonder if they have preservation orders on them or if the Crown Estate just keep them because they are so cool.
The snow is still here, Tilly is still enjoying it and spending increasingly longer in the garden every time she goes out for a wee. I can't complain too much, it's certainly making walks much less muddy, and walking in the snow really works your bum muscles.