No slipping and sliding today.

There is a road there somewhere.

One of these icicles is 4 feet long. This corner of the house catches the sun first thing, after that its back to freezing, hence the icicles.

Snowed in the night and blizzards all morning. Watched a very large lorry, carrying animal feed, slalom down our road, which is only wide enough for one lorry, so that was quite exciting to watch. So as any of my journeys were not completely necessary I didnt go anywhere.

Got all my chores done. Wrote some Christmas cards. Realised I haven't got enough.

Did my round robin effort, this to those who always do me one. Theirs is usually how well they and theirs have done in the year which makes you want to vomit, or alternatively there are the doom and gloom merchants - who has died, who has the most awful illness (in graphic detail), who isnt expected to live the year out and so on.

Mine is usually headed by the best photo I can find. The words consist of, "Still here, still for sale. All well."

Which I suppose I could write in the card, some of my friends and family I do limit it to that. But I do enjoy the excuse of sending a photo of me looking glamorous and beaming, well sending it to some people I do!

Then I wrapped up parcels. Why do I always get backache packing parcels? I have learnt over the years just to do a few at a time. Is it wrestling with the sellotape, which usually takes the top layers of my lips off? Finding the piece of paper I measured and cut has shrunk? It doesnt matter how hard I try my presents always look like something the cat dragged in and I am put to shame by the beautifully wrapped and presented gifts I receive. At least no-one hesitates to open mine whereas the beautifully wrapped ones one feels one should never touch let alone tear the paper. And very often what's inside you find should probably have been better left wrapped. Aren't I awful.