Snow

I felt sorry for the postman this morning, battling down the road on his pushbike.

We don't get much settling snow here, thanks to our maritime climate, though the flurries, when they come, are thick and fast, blowing hard in your face.

Poor Mr GB had to get to Manchester this morning on the early flight, which meant leaving home at 4.45. He does this every week for 3 days and is used to it but this morning wasn't routine, involving driving to Edinburgh airport in a blizzard on icy roads. The car did a 360 just outside Upper Largo, he tells me: - the kind of adventure not even Alexander Selkirk would have enjoyed.

And now he's on a train to London, where he is due to give a presentation tomorrow, rather an important one. He was going to fly but the airports are dicey. According to Radio 4 this lunchtime there are 3 hour queues for taxis at Gatwick.

The train should be fine. Though I hope he has a bar of chocolate, and a blanket and a shovel.