Winter Standstill

It's getting beyond a joke.

The snow, I mean. At first the novelty was fun. The wintry scenes were pretty and it was all a great excuse to hunker down at home and not do very much. We built snowmen and threw snowballs, and pressed our noses against the window to ooh and aah at the fluffy cotton wool flakes floating down onto the garden. The heating was turned up to full and the last of the Christmas chocolate was polished off.

I've had enough now.

We have run out of food and milk, and can't get to the shops unless my friend comes round to rescue us in her four by four. The children have had precisely two days back at school since the end of the Christmas holidays. I can't get to work (cue very grumpy Naked Boss) and we are all frothing at the mouth with cabin fever.

And still it comes. The sky it seems, is incontinent. The view out of my window, a scene from Narnia.