The Snow is Dancing

For days now I've been hauled up in the house, sitting by the fire wrapped in a pretty old quilt with a pot of tea reading the huge stack of books I was given for Christmas. That may sound idyllic, like a scene from Little Women, but in reality it's just painfully cold.


You might think that since I have lived Scotland my whole life that I would be accustom to such bleak weather but -8 °c? A person shouldn't have to move from their bed in such temperatures! Thankfully the weather has a saving grace - Snow! Huge, feathery flakes of darling snow!
Oh, howling winds, horizontal rain, vulgar sleet that stings your hands up doesn't coat the pavement - we're old friends. But not lovely snow. It barely ever stays on the ground, that is until last year, now it grinds the whole country to a halt and all everyone does is complain. Well, not I.
I simply adore it, from the window of course. Snow boots aren't a look that I could do justice.


Adam finally bribed me out into the winter wonder land with promises of bourbon laced hot chocolate and cinnamon buns. How could a girl resist?

I bundled up in my cosy tba coat and not so cosy Erin Featherson for Target dress. Beret, scarf and mittens. I later came to regret my choice of attire , when I lost feeling in my legs but at least I looked nice. So, it was swiftly back home for hot chocolate and buns.




More snow is forecast for the next few days so all I can do is repetedly listen to The Snow is Dancing and feverishly hope for to be snowed in and enjoy another stolen days holiday.