Last of the Winter Whine?

For a variety of reasons Hutton did not go to the Big Smoke this morning but may later the week if the omens are propitious. More difficult to detemine this these days as access to the entrails of a duck requires the possession of one with the inevitable risk of aviator flu. Omens this am were certainly not propitious. Putative taxi driver terrorised by the BBC Blether Centre forecast for the Borders, reluctant to make the trek to Hutton accriss the frozen steppes-and at 8am he may have had a point; thick snow visibility no more than three Double Decker bus lenths or shorter than a standard football pitch. And the train I was due to catch never showed apparently having been lost somewhere between Glasca and Embra. By that time, and for other, lurgi connected reasons I had pulled the plug on today's trip.

Of course by 11am it was all different. Snow vanished as if it had never been-the images are of the weather map at 8-30 with very large, very pretty and very cold flakes descending. I have a feeling, not shared by the meteorologists that this may have been Winters last kick. If so it will still be the snowiest winter since, er, 04/05. And I got one run on the inflatable toboggan. So we can now stop whining about the past few months-the lateness of the daffodils, inability to weed the garden mow the lawn, find the garden gnomes. Soon enough we will be complaining about the spring: too many bloody daffodils, too much mowing, ditto weeding and why on earth do we want with those naff gnomes ( I hasten to add, not one of our complaints)

So enjoy these pictures while you can. It will be daffs on stilts soon enough  ¶ 11:53 AM