A Snowy Awakening

Friday 10th February 2012
A peaceful sunrise over a snowy landscape.

The drive to school today was hair-raising. The roads had been cleared brilliantly, but with the thermometer dipping to 7 below zero the surface resembled an ice rink in places. An early rise was necessary, as buckets of warm water needed to be carted down to the pigs and chickens and I was keen to top up the bird tables too. Twice the car slid as I drove to work with Sue, but nothing too dramatic. Given how windy (two ways to read this, both equally applicable!) some of the roads are, and how they weave along raised banks surrounded by deep dykes or bordered by wide, iced up drains, it is surprising that more people don't end up submerged in their vehicles.

After school, we headed into Wisbech. We were half way there anyway, but one thing about rural living is that you have to plan your journeys wisely and fit as much in as possible otherwise you can spend a fortune just popping out to get something you forgot. First stop was Nimax, the animal supplies store, to buy disinfecting powder needed for cleaning the trailer, which the pigs will be travelling in on Monday (if the weather doesn't totally sabotage the plan). Then Aldi (we tend to bulk buy selectively from a range of supermarkets, making the most of whatever is going cheap). Finally B&Q. Having purchased a year's worth of old Which Gardening magazines from the library for a quid, I was following up a Best Buy - their multipurpose compost. Sorry it's not entirely peat-free. Feel free to disapprove, but only if you're causing less harm to the planet during your temperary residence theron than I am!

As we headed home along the A47 there was a totally amazing sun. Vivid red, and seemingly about five times as big as when it had risen. Surely we hadn't travelled far enough to be that much closer!

A quick rush down to give the animals their evening feed. Sue risked the beak of Elvis to check how many eggs she had under her. She should have six, two blue/green ones and 4 larger, pale brown ones with pencil crosses on. She was actually sitting on nine! I have no idea how the eggs get underneath her. It would be quite a feat to roll them out of the adjacent laying box into hers.

On the way back to the house, I heard the strange woeful hoot of the Little Owl again. Then a fat little torpedo flew from the roadside hedge into one of the Ash trees. After a little searching, we could see it silhouetted against the sky. The first time I've actually laid eyes on it for almost a year.