Burning down the house

Well, not quite -- just yet. We have burnt old kitchen units, doors, bits of shed, bits of mantelpiece, decking, old logs, The Guardian, egg boxes, the Sony Bravia manual (very dense), Amazon boxes, and the Christmas tree, and we're always on the lookout for new flammable objects that will fit into our wood-burner. In fact, I was watching an old Poirot the other morning and as David Suchet scuttled through the countryside, he went past a huge pile of chopped wood -- and I (momentarily) was envious. "Oooh, what lovely wood! I wish I had some like that." It's very sad.



What isn't sad is the heat the fire gives off, the comforting glow that keeps us cosy while "credit-crunch Britain" suffers through this "Arctic Blast". While London may have given up the ghost, life in the Shires continues much as usual. The post came today, as did -- eventually, admittedly -- our two pints of semi-skimmed. Buses (of the non-bendy variety) have been running through the village. We even managed to get out for a walk this evening; four inches of snow isn't enough to render us housebound! My new Wellington boots and even newer Wellington boot socks have been put to good use already and proved far superior to PJ's ancient Cat boots with their super-slippery soles. The cats, while far steadier on their feet, approached this newfound white stuff with initial trepidation but have subsequently spent good parts of the day outdoors frolicking, periodically returning to warm their paws on the hot-water pipes upstairs. They're in now and will -- I hope -- perform their secondary function of furry hot-water bottles, sitting on our laps and keeping us toasty as we eat hearty stew and get quietly sozzled.





The snow of course does highlight the one big problem with working from home: No snow days! Everyone in London can just pretend that it's impossible for them to do any work -- no buses, no laptop, no IT support, no clue -- but us homeworkers are expected to struggle womanfully from bedroom to office and put in a full day at the coalface. Boo!