Sorry for slipping into the vernacular of young persons.
Anyway it's not "cool". What it is, is "cold". Frikin' cold to be precise.
I was really looking forward to getting home on Friday (as I do every Friday). Grabbing myself a nice crema, a dawd of cake, sitting there listening to a rather exciting "new" (to me) recording of Chet Baker from '65, and at the same time getting inspiration from the sage words of John Fordham's jazz reviews in the Guardian.
What I didn't bank on was having to dig our car out of a frikin' snow drift over by The Brunt!! Or the fact that we would have to double back on our journey and take another route home. So by the time we did get in the old coffee and cake routine was a bit curtailed. Our disappointment was compounded by the fact that our Guardian hadn't been delivered (we had been "substituted" with a Scotsman). Now this upset Anne more than me... Other than the cartoons and the musings of Mr Fordham, I don't bother with the Guardian.
It may seem strange to some that living remotely, as we do, and living in the hills, as we also do, that we get a paper delivered at all. But we do.
You may think then, that our paper boy must be one hell of a cyclist to cope with that route. Well no.... he's about 70 and delivers the papers in a van - though he IS a hell of a cyclist (but only in his spare time when not working).
One of the good things about getting a paper in weather like this is - "if he can get IN to us, then we can get OUT". It's an early warning sign of being snowed in. So it was a bit upsetting today when we got no paper at all.
Oh yes indeedy - snowed in again !
Went out a run though. It's weird. All the roads are clear - except for a couple of stretches, each no more than a couple of hundred metres, where the snow is blowing off the fields and collecting in massive drifts on the road!!
In a way I had hoped for a little more snow on the road, as I quite enjoy running in it.
What I didn't like running in was the cold, cold wind. You feel as though your face is being peeled off as you try to run into it.
Horrible run, for about the first four miles - into the wind, but then surprisingly nice on the way back.
I actually quite like a day loafing about the house - long as I can get out for a run first. Then I don't feel too guilty.