The icing on the cake

This is what happened next. (It's an ill wind etc.)

And even worse off still

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=-JpNravrwZc

We just missed this on the Today programme this morning. But it's worth sharing.

There's always someone worse off

I absolutely HATE this weather, can't ride the horse (who's out in a field eating snow) and am still toying with various plot ideas. We only have one elderly neighbour to look out for, and she's friskier than I am. Unlike Aliya, I haven't finished my Christmas shopping, and I haven't started on the Christmas cards.

But this pic made me realise things could be worse.

Hallelujah!

This was sent to me this morning. Amazingly cheering, (and takes the mind off the weather, snow, blocked roads, cancelled trains...).

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SXh7JR9oKVE

Second novel syndrome

I know of people who are so brimming with plots that they're spoilt for choice. As soon as they've finished one novel, they're on to the next. Some even write two or more at a time.

And then there are people like me. As someone once said, the plot for a first novel is relatively easy, since that's the book you've (probably) been incubating for years. Hence the notoriously difficult second novel. I seem to have second novel syndrome each time. It takes me ages to happen upon (that's usually how it seems) a good enough new plot. It's a bit like trying to get pregnant, without any of the fun. So here I am, wasting time blogging (between Christmas shopping, and making mince pies), and waiting for that plot to drop into my head. Which is quite frightening, since maybe it won't. Maybe I'll never have another plot or write another novel. I rather envy the NaNo people, who had the discipline to write a novel in a month. The imperative to write may well have inspired the plot. Too late for me this year (although there's no reason why I can't set myself a personal NaNo). I've got a vague plot about people stuck in ia lift, but is that enough for a novel? If I were an Ian McEwan, certainly it would be. Sadly, I'm not.

On a lighter note, I read in the paper today that a company is designing larger cat flaps for fatter cats, since apparently feline obesity is becoming a problem, and ordinary cat flaps are too small. This got me wondering: there must be a fine line between a fat cat and thin burglar. I hope they know what they're doing.

Alternatively...

Or maybe this would be more suitable. One small granddaughter has been awake all night because she's so excited about the snow. I have not. Not being excited about snow is a sign of old age, I'm afraid.

Hats (a cheery subject for a cold day)

Talking of weddings (well, a lot of people seem to be) I just love hats. I'm not a dressy person; I spend most of my life in jeans. But hats - they're different. There's something splendid about hats, but all too few occasions upon which I can wear one.

Here in Devizes we have a magnificent hat-hire shop. Inside this charming, low-beamed building there is an entire rainbow of hats; big, small, fluffy, flowery - you name it, Joan has got it. You bring in your outfit, and she finds you the hat. And she's alway right. Having found the hat, she will attach little bit of things - feathers and other fripperies - to match, say, your shoes.

But sadly, apart from a niece's wedding next year (that will be a big hat day), there will be no other occasion in the forseeable future for me to visit Joan and her hats. The only other hat occasion I can think of is a royal garden party, and I would really hate to go to one of those (if anyone royal is reading this, please don't take offence; just invite someone else instead). The idea of having to dress up and trawl into London to have posh tea with hundreds (or is it thousands?) of strangers fills me with horror. That, and the fact that the hat would probably get squashed on the train (well, you can't wear a big hat on a train, can you? There's hardly room for the passengers, without hats).

Never mind. Just remember; if you are in the South West, and need a hat, Joan's your woman. Oh, and please can I come with you to help choose it?