The weatherman said it was going to rain

It's not much but it doesn't snow here very often. The sea protects us, I believe. It gets me excited anyway.

When I left home this morning it was raining; by lunchtime the drive up to the building was getting untravellable, so, being the only person in work, I made an executive decision and sent myself home. Just as well I did too, as Alfie didn't like the slippery hill at all and was most reluctant to stop.

Two things from work though. First an I received an email about a survey being carried out, or as the writer put it, 'we're running a pole asking ...'. One hopes he stops running long enough to ask his questions.

Secondly, on making a phone call I got through to an answerphone that said, 'Your call cannot be answered at the moment and you cannot leave a message so - here the speaker took a breath, just long enough for me to wonder what she was going to say - please sod off.' Not really.

I used to leave amusing messages on the answerphone in work. Okay, I thought they were amusing. One time I said, 'I'm sorry, the answerphone isn't working but the filing cabinet will take a message and pass it on for you.'

I had to remove it after my boss kept getting people complaining that the answerphone wasn't working.

No wonder I have to blog. My creativity is stifled.

Remember those flowers from yesterday? See them today.

And the cross isn't a cross; it's the edge of a noticeboard (in the middle of the woods).

You make my world go round

The absolute best bit of circuit training is the optional five-minute relaxation session at the end of the class.

The trouble is that, since Sunday evening, I've had what I assume is a middle ear infection. This means I get dizzy but only when lying down. Which scuppers relaxation for me. I can do everything else: the cycling, treadmill, weights, boxing. It's just the lying down I can't do.

Husband had the same thing a week or so ago. He reckoned it lasted about seven days. It had better be gone by next Monday: I can't miss another opportunity to relax.

I stopped at the shop on the way home as we're nearly out of bread and milk. People must be laying in for a snow-siege: there was no semi-skimmed milk and only two cartons of whole milk. What they did have though, that I haven't seen for ages is - I think it's sterilised - milk in bottles that go narrow at the top and have a metal lid.

When I was little my gran used to have a pint of it delivered at the weekend to make her milk puddings. Mm, I loved my gran's rice pudding (but hated sago or tapioca). One of my great-grans lived with us; the other was on the other side of Swansea. When we visited her she would give me rice pudding too, but made in her fire stove - I don't know what they're called. A fire you cooked on. The pudding would go in the oven next to the fire and cook very slowly becoming yummy and creamy in the process. I still love rice pudding.

But I'm going off the point. When I went back to the car after buying my milk, a man who was getting out of the car next to me grinned at me. A great big familiar grin. I don't think I knew him. Maybe it was something to do with the fact that I was wearing shorts on what is probably the coldest night of the year so far.