Some things continue to amaze, year in, year out. Like the apparent surprise expressed by councils the length and breadth of Cruel Britannia that snow and ice might actually be a reality in December. Like the scenes of near-riot in any given supermarket or department store on any given day in the lead-up to Christmas. It seems to begin slightly earlier every year.
Anyhoo, my up-at-the-crack-of-dawn-to-shop approach (see previous post) worked in the end, and I pretty much have everything done that needs to be done. Plus I managed to traverse Satan's Slip-Road (Southern readers: the M62) without too much grief earlier today. Never a relaxing trip at the best of times.
Of course, in accordance with government guidelines, I'd packed a thermos of coffee, some blankets, stout walking-boots, some flares (no, not the trousers) and a supply of glucose tablets, just in case of climatic Armageddon. Over here, you just never know.
Ok, onward into the Season of Goodwill we go.