It’s snowing!

There was a great whoop of delight as the children realised school was cancelled.

I did my own silent but heartfelt whoop ten minutes later when I took a call to say that all our clients had taken one look at the weather forecast and cancelled their appointments for the day.

Instead of having to cast around for emergency childcare and struggle into work, I was free to play.

I love the snow.  However much it disrupts normal life, there’s something very special about a covering over the Dorset landscape.  The mud disappears, there is a beautiful light and a special quiet solitude about being out in the countryside.

With the whole day and a pristine white farm spread before us, we fortified ourselves with eggs on toast and were outside testing the terrain before nine.

We built ‘Bob’ the snowman and adorned him with Jack’s hat (courtesy of the cattle drug rep) and my Christmas scarf.  We dusted off the sledge, and made countless snowballs, snowangels and muddy footprints where we could still break through to the ground underneath.  The dogs were beside themselves, tails constantly up and wagging as they dug madly in the snow at smells that must be there.

The one dissenter: husband Rob.  Farmers don’t get snow days, just different headaches.  Compacted snow is difficult to operate on; the water troughs freeze over; even the muck freezes, with the nasty promise of rivers of slurry when it melts.




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