Iced

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

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Ani and I watched the skies all weekend. Heavy, grey, full of snow and constantly snowing. The small dog spent most of her time either chasing snowflakes in the garden, or doggedly propping the garden doors open with her not-so-small body. I alternated between turning blue and turning the air blue in an attempt to convince her that warmth is good… and closed doors encourage warmth…especially when the heating is on. Apparently, the dog is deaf. Selectively.

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Yet we saw very little snow settle on the ground and stay. In fact, it was whiter last time I was in the north when an unexpected frost caught us by surprise. Not that frost in the north should be unexpected in winter, but the weather in the town had been just grey and damp. I should have thought it through a little better, but we were heading for Castleton and the chance…

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