snow snow and more snow

Here I was writing about the marvels of modern technology and hey presto, we are back to primitive and basic aspects of our daily life. We are in France, chez nous, in the Pas de Calais where, before Christmas snow stopped Eurostar from operating and where our hilltop village was cut off from civilisation for several days.

Once again, the garden is a fairy snowscape and the only discernable movement outside is a gorgeously plumed pheasant, plumping up its feathers, clearly in the hope of turning it into a duvet. It walks across the field, up to the top of its legs in snow Doesn't it know it's got wings?

Yesterday it was joined by two hares, lolloping in an ungainly fashion across the snow with the smaller of the two spending minutes just sitting there. What an idea! A turnip and a crust of bread were clearly not visible or too close to the house.

Adam with family sets off from London to join us. Several telephone conversations later and halfway to the Tunnel, we urge him to turn back. The roads are still clear there but here, it is snowing heavily. Luckily, he accepts our advice and now he is back in his own house, watching neighbours skidding in the snow which is now falling in London.

We have enough food in the house to last us for a long time. The only trouble is reading matter. I have finished the two lengthy tomes I brought with me. So have to scan bookshelves for books I have already read but forgotten. Gabriel Garcia Marquez will do nicely!