It's actually snowing!
"Shall I tell the kids?"
"Don't bother them now. They're just going to sleep."
So I go and tell the kids. They're slightly interested.
Next morning I'm first up, looking out the window.
I tell the kids and they're quite interested, but they'd rather hold the guinea pigs.
I finally get them outside in the snow. It's only just getting light (sun rises late in these parts) and it's blooming freezing. The kids humour me for a few minutes before escaping back to the warmth.
I grab the camera and enjoy the frosted views and crunching footsteps for myself. Slowly, reality dawns. School starts in half an hour and it's a 10-minute drive away. I've never driven in snow. Certainly not down a pot-holed farm track.
"This will be fun!" I tell the kids from behind the steering wheel, trying to convince myself. The farm track is ok, but ahead cars are struggling to make it up a small, icy hill. One by one, they give it a go, then slip back down and park at the side of the road.
Put it in second gear and rev it, a distant memory informs me.
Yes, yes, go, skid, eek, go, skid, eek, yes!
We've made it up the hill but I'll be blown if I'm going to risk driving my darlings down the other side. Pull in. Think. Chat about the weather. "Isn't this fun!"
The kids aren't fooled; they know I'm panicking.
Salvation comes in the form of a shining white 4x4, transporting a friend from
Rosa's class. I flag it down and Rosa jumps on board. That leaves Joe and me kicking our heels in the snow, buying essentials from the village shop and waiting for enough cars to slush up the road so that we can drive home safely.
"Mummy, can I have a bucket and a spade?" Joe asks when we eventually make it back. Poor boy, I think. He has no memories of snow and he must be a touch confused. But actually it's a brilliant idea. We spend the rest of the morning making snow castles in the garden and kicking them down with glee.
Oh, I do love snow. So long as I don't have to go anywhere.