Mittens.

The gang went up the Dun Rig horseshoe near Peebles. We had just reached the first summit when it started snowing. Light sharp crystals driven on a chill wind. After a bit I stopped sniffing or mopping at my runny nose and just let the wind blow the snot away in strings.

The snow settled over the half frozen peat bog like caster sugar on sorbet. But not half as nice to fall into.

I knitted these mittens myself. I found the merino wool in a charity shop and adapted a pattern I found on line. The kept my hands toasty warm. I may try using them next time I go cross country skiing.

I got home to find a crisis had resolved itself in my absence (I often find doing nothing solves things. John Le Carre called it 'masterly inaction').

I owe Alfie £5 for fuel.