Burian

The snow arrived in the night. Not a lot but enough. Now as darkness falls the Burian is blowing a gale and the feels-like temperature is at -10C.

We had a bit of a drive around earlier to buy fish and bread.  The roads were fine until we started to gain altitude.

We're trying to watch the Scotland Wales six nations match but the picture keeps going. How sad to see Murrayfield empty.

It's forecast to go down to -6C tonight.

On a little walk I ran into my neighbouring smallholder who we know as Mr Phut Phut because he drives one of those little tractor/cultivators that Italy specialises in. In the summer you can hear him coming from a mile away. We rarely speak but wave to each other from our fields.

He'd come up in his jeep to have a look at his 'podere' in the snow. He told me his wife had had a cerebral haemorrhage on the 11th of October and has been in hospital since. He last saw her at Christmas.

I'd wondered at Christmas when I heard him up at the plot strimming on Christmas Day. Maybe he was searching for meaning or distraction or something in the bleak wet day.

He said his heart has gone out of the land. They used to come up together to plant the potatoes.

Spare a thought for Luigi on this hard cold night.