Suddenly, in the space of an hour this afternoon, the snow began to go. I went to ukuleles at a quarter to two and my front lawn was deep in snow. When I returned at a quarter past three there was no vestige left and all was green. Let us all hope that we have seen the end of it for this year. (please don't let me be tempting fate here).
I was thinking this afternoon just how very far communication has come in the space of my lifetime. When I was a child in a village on the
edge of the Fens in Lincolnshire, only three or four folk in the village had a telephone - the doctor, the rector, the judge who happened to live in the big house in the village and the Lord of the Manor. Maybe a couple of the farmers too.
The likes of us had to trudge the mile to the red phone box, put in our twopence and press button A speak to anyone - the house could have burnt down in that time.
Now during the past week I have had e mails from America, Canada, New Zealand, Australia, Austria, Germany and France. And joy of joys, at a quarter past one last Saturday afternoon I had a telephone call from my grandson who lives and works in China. My parents, both of whom died in 1972 , would scarcely credit it.