No milk today

Just up the road Looking back on the village The road is clear in places Across the hill Going down was tricky The backroad from Tortefontaine Mistletoe The fishing pond
Click on the thumbnails for a larger picture That's the one I want So, what's under this stuff ? I am going to be just sooo fat Waiting in the tree Is this my best side ? Anybody looking ? It's a punk

Buckets of snow

December 2009

I don't know about the best laid plans of mice because at that low elevation from the ground it is probably hard to think beyond the next piece of cheese and the festive season can probably be best summed up in the phrase : "Ooh! beads !".

However we human folk are supposed to be able to organise almost anything. One of the exceptions being the climate. It has been said that the UK doesn't have seasons - it has weather. Some of it has rubbed off on the north of France this winter.

The stats would say that it is rare for us to have snow in December, well we all know about stats don't we. Roll on global warming, the Russians have the right of it - another two degrees of warmth would be quite nice.

In theory then, family and friends were supposed to have been coming for the weekend before Christmas. However on the Thursday we had a sheet of snow across northern France and Kent went for the full flannelet blanket.

The tunnel was full of trains - all going nowhere. The motorways in England were chaos and the French autoroutes not much better after a number of accidents.

Nobody was going anywhere apart from by Shank's pony.

Now Murphy's law would tell you that the news of all this would only filter through, after you had prepared dinner for six !

I had suggested to the French based contingent that they might as well come over for Sunday lunch but whilst the nationales were fine the inter-village roads were still skating rinks. No need to head off for the Winter Olympics you could have slalomed from St Pol or tried cross-country to Crécy.

The bright side of all this was the fact that in the winter sunshine the countryside around the house looks fabulous with a crisp coating of snow.

So armed with my fur hat and scarf I went for a dander with the camera.

Anton and Debs gave me a bird feeder for my birthday and it has been well used by the mini feathered varieties that frequent my blue spruce. Thankfully they prefer cheap human salted peanuts as opposed to the expensive wild bird variety. Must be the continental touch. I wouldn't be surprised to find that the mice prefer Roquefort.


See also

Winter Market