Wednesday night was definitely perishing, little Rusty was warm and snug indoors but the outdoor dogs barked us awake at 4am. I suddenly imagined them all standing there paws frozen to the run, or the water bowl iced and dogs gasping for a drink.
Whatever it was Bookhound had to get dressed and investigate.
In fact they all had a leap about in the snow before settling down in their straw...not Bookhound, I let him back indoors... so we had a cup of tea and all went back to sleep.
Since then we have borrowed a heat lamp from the farm, put all the dogs in together and we might all end up out in the kennel because it's very toasty warm out there now.
Rusty has had a walk out and thinks snow is the norm, grass is going to come as a big surprise and as you can see he knows who his master is already.
Magically still and silent across the back field and I know it's a nuisance and we're not supposed to be enjoying it, but this is the first snowtime I haven't had to struggle out to work and trek out to see new babies in the back of beyond and wreck my car doing it. Now working from home, I sit here in my thermals and don't miss a day.
It's costing the nation millions and everyone's supposed not to be coping and the schools are closed and our gas tank is eating £50 notes as fast as I eat crisps... thank heavens for those logs, and however did we manage in 1963 with knee socks and no central heating?
I'm remembering coal fires and a paraffin stove on the landing with net curtains frozen to the windows all day.
But actually I think people are coping and sometimes it's a beautiful nuisance and somehow this feels like the right way to start a year...hunkered down. I normally feel at odds with January, this year I'm strangely at one with it all.
Driving the Land Rover is for the bravehearts (not me) but it can get the two miles up to the main road so we have supplies.
We haven't had any post for ages and the dustman are a distant memory and naturally if the gas runs out, the pipes freeze or the electricity goes off, or we run out of chocolate then I'll be less enamoured; no power means no water for us so we'll be melting snow for pots of tea.
Rocky , that set of ribs on legs as you can see, is surviving with his inbuilt thermal layer of adipose tissue
and for cold nights only we've relented and made the cat flap two-way. Usually it's out and once out stay out..if he brings in a rabbit he's in trouble and we know the take-aways are out there because suddenly the field is giving it all away.
Perhaps this was the cause of the 4am shenanigans...a single trail of small, neat and very deliberate footprints along the hedge, surely a fox?