Brrr.

I was just about to go shopping. I need fudz: specifically, I need spicy, warming fudz. I need, indeed, the makings of a curry. Or two. Meats and veggies too, as I'm not getting my regular veggie bag, for white and fluffy reasons.

So here I was, all poised to shop. Only then I looked out of the window, and the sky is falling. Again. Indeed, it's chucketing down. Lining all the black branches with white again. I had meant to take photos, because two days ago they looked amazing; only then the wind turned vicious and blew them bare. Now the wind's died down and the soft snow has apparently taken advantage to come back. Which is all very aesthetic, but - well, I think maybe I'll hold off the shopping till this afternoon. Also, crank the heating up. Damn.

In other news, I am curiously enjoying the training of a spam-filter. Applauding it, when it correctly identifies junk; correcting it mildly when it misattributes. It's easier than training cats. (Ptui! say the boys. Well, so says Mac. He has played with a fragment of polystyrene - Best Toy Ever!, at least until the next packing-peanut comes along - and is now resting before the fire. Barry is out on the stairs, sitting in the window watching the snow come down. It are endlessly fascinating, apparently, and never mind the cold.)

Brrr, grrr

I'm disappointed. Apparently this house is not the coldest place in the universe, and neither is Hemel Hempstead.

Earlier this week, you should understand, someone told me that it was indeed Hemel Hempstead: that scientists there had brought a bar of rhodium down to some minuscule percentage of a degree Kelvin above absolute zero, and hence - barring cleverer alien scientists - there it was.

I believed that absolutely, and googled it none the less - and it isn't true. It's not Hemel Hempstead, it's Helsinki. Which is far more likely in oh so many ways, and also far less fun.

Even so. Cold here too. And I can't even go to bed and swathe myself in duvets, for I am waiting for that errant delivery that started in Scotland and went to the south and seemed somehow to bypass me altogether. It was allegedly in Gateshead this morning, and went out on a van at 10.40. It is now 17.00, and I am starting to lose faith in that van.

Hah!

It's just as well I'd lost faith and stopped believing in that delivery. The tracking has gone back from "Out for delivery" to "Delay in delivery due to weather or natural disaster." In the UK, of course, these two are practically indistinguishable.

It's the first time I've ever had a tracked delivery fail to be delivered. It is very snowy out there. There is still traffic on my road, which may have deceived me as to the passability of others; or maybe it was the van driver who was deceived, and there has been a coming-together. There doesn't seem to be any way to ask. I guess I'll just track again in the morning, and see what's what.