Easy come, easy snow...

It was like living in a waterfall yesterday. As quickly and as thickly as the snow had fallen over the previous three days, it all but disappeared in the space of twelve hours when higher temperatures and a goodly dollop of rain took over.

And now all that remains of snow is the odd plop here and there. Roads are clear, pavements are, at the worst, slushy, and people are appearing in their droves to catch up on all the retail therapy they missed in the three days they were housebound.

It's a bit sad, really. But such is the focus of our economy these days.

Yesterday I started knitting a frog. Like you do. It was a bit awkward on account of the fact that Kayleigh was visiting and it is a well-known fact that newly mobile babies, like cats, are irresistibly drawn to things that are of no concern to them whatsoever. And knitting with a Kayleigh baby hanging off the end of your needles and a Pandora cat determined to kidnap your ball of wool, would try the patience of the most saintliest of knitters.

I am thinking I ought to knit myself a hat. I don't normally allow my head to frequent a hat - I find hats strangely disturbing; they seem to awaken strange memories from a distant past. But with the weather having been VERY cold this last week, and my only head covering being a rainhood on my gardening coat, I found myself trying on hats in BHS and thinking perhaps a hat would be a good idea.

'They don't half heat your head up quickly, don't they?' I said to Andy, who was trying not to laugh as I performed my bizarre hat shuffle under the beady eye of a shop assistant who clearly thought I was on a middle-aged muckabout and had no intention of purchasing a hat at all.
'Yes,' said Andy, who is an ardent hat 'n' balaclava wearer and has spent much of this week in the guise of a mysterious Ninja-type.

Anyway, I overheated very quickly and thus abandoned my hat flirtation, but not before I had ascertained that I quite like the big-round-pouffe-of-fur-look-of-Lara-from-Doctor-Zhivago. I think it's because the roundness balances out my long face, and the lack of cling means the odd bumpiness of my skull remains hidden.

Have I told you about my head bump? I think I have. On the left hand side of my head about two inches above my ear, I have a bump the size of, oh, a walnut maybe? It isn't noticeable 'neath my fortunate accumulation of thick hair, but it is noticeable when I wear a skin tight swimming hat, for example, or when I say 'Feel my bump' to people. (Which, rest assured, doesn't happen very often.) As far as I know I've had this bump all my life. It's been checked by a doctor who declared it to be 'part of your head' and I like to think, that in phrenology terms, it indicates my highly intellectual disposition. Actually, I think it hovers half-way between the intelligence area and the empathy area; either way, I remain unfussed.

So I am now on the hunt for a pouffey furry hat. Faux fur, of course. Unless I can persuade one of the cats to balance on my head.