Jack Frost

This morning we took a walk to the park. Well. If the snow is magical, we simply run out of words to describe the frost. It is breathtakingly beautiful (and cold) out there. Every leaf has an edging of glittering crystals. Every iron bar and tree trunk and wall glistens and shimmers in the winter sun. The spiders' webs are laced with diamonds. The bare treetops are pure white lace against the grey blue sky.

We wore every layer we could find - the children in tights and socks, two pairs of trousers, two tshirts, jumpers, coats, hats, scarves and gloves. The baby wore her new long red wool coat (one of the things that have come back out of the attic from Jenna and Morgan's babyhoods) with a fleece romper suit underneath, and two sets of normal clothes under that. She looked like a little fat red gnome! She's a hardy creature, though, slips and picks herself right up. She was eating snow most of the way round - I have taken to giving her relatively clean pieces lest she make her own selection from the greying blocks on the floor.

We didn't quite get to the park before Morgan was saying she wanted to go home. Experience has taught me to take Morgan seriously, so we turned around. Jenna was disappointed, but held Morgan's hand all the way home saying that she could always make a big snowman another day. We got to the end of our road before Morgan (now slightly blue about the lips) started to howl.

Anyhow, wet gloves onto the radiators, hot cocoa, lentil and squash curry for an early dinner, and we are all warm again! We made scones yesterday afternoon, so the children are clamouring for more of those now, warmed through and sticky with jam. I concur. I can't think of many things more comforting (except for putting the heating back on again)!