At last the snow is reluctantly deciding it is time to go. Today the temperature is five degrees and slowly but surely the snow and ice is receding. The roads and footpaths are still icy in places and with melting snow on the top are lethal, particularly for us ancients who fear breakages with every step we take. A much faster thaw is forecast for tomorrow with temperatures up to twelve degrees - such is the contrariness of our weather here in the UK.
It was our Book Group meeting this morning - five of us meeting in one another's houses. This month we had read and came ready to discuss Patrick Leigh Fermor's 'A Time of Gifts' -the first of a trilogy written when he was in his sixties about travels in his late teens and early twenties. We had all enjoyed it - and if you haven't read the three books I can thoroughly recommend them. Our next book is Benjamin Myers's 'The Gallows Pole', so I have just ordered that one.
Saying good-bye to snow like we have had for the last week, it is easy to think that it is good-bye to the snow for this winter. Whilst I sincerely hope it is, it is far too early to even dare to think that.
What seems so exciting when one is young, nimble footed and keen to snowball, sledge, ski and the like becomes a nightmare when one is likely to fall over and break something vital. Sorry to be so depressing, but I have lost yet another friend this weekend. Friend D fell on Thursday and broke his wrist, went into hospital overnight while it was set and seen to and before he could come home on Friday had a heart attack and died. The total of friends lost in the last year steadily rises - I fear it will reach a dozen before the first anniversary of the loss of the farmer.
No more glum and morose talk. Let's celebrate the snow going away, the bulbs coming through, my amaryllis in full bloom, the birth of a new baby grandchild to my cleaning lady, friendship,
the delicious sea bass I cooked for myself at lunchtime. I could go on. Life isn't all bad - isn't all good either. Just normal.