Did anyone mention that there is snow?

Hello people of the world,

It's only me.

As I sit and write this to you, I am staring onto a snow covered lawn that's twinkling in the afternoon sunshine and making diamonds sparkle before me. Birds twitter but the trees remain silent and still, weighed down from their snowy loads. A fire rages in our little cottage at home, making me feel warm as I sip a mug of creamy hot chocolate whilst Dave chatters away in the background.

Doesn't that just sound idyllic? Perfect? Heavenly?

Yes, it does, doesn't it.

Unfortunately, it's not real. I thought I'd use a little bit of artistic license to draw you in.

Instead, as I write to you I am indeed staring across a snow covered lawn. However, I can't hear the birds (yet that didn't stop the blighters at 6:30 a.m. this very morning), Dave is not here and nor is the sun shining. I don't have a log fire roaring away (I don't have clearance to make such a thing. My last effort resulted in soot falling into the house and not out and was so pitiful it wouldn't light for longer than 30 seconds). Instead I am revisiting my student memories and have wrapped myself up in the following layers:

• underwear (obviously)
• tights (purple- if you're wondering)
• two pairs of socks
• jeans
• slippers (that look like they've been designed for elves)
• one vest top
• one long-sleeved t-shirt
• one hoodie (and yes, the hood is up)
• one extremely long and woolly scarf
• one big fluffy dressing gown

And before you ask: yes, I am still cold. I'm probably not helping matters with a cold beverage (think Mildred, think). 

What keeps me at the computer is the need to keep writing. I need to publicise my book An Ordinary Girl in an Extraordinary World which- as you know, was published this week. I'm still riding high on that excitement as unfortunately, January is shaping into it's usual self: an anti-Mildred month.

January and I have never seen eye to eye and probably never will. I don't always honour the January tradition of making new year's resolutions- sometimes I do, but not always. I don't go out and join a gym in January and I don't suddenly achieve all that I hoped to in the previous year overnight in this one month. Instead I attempt to do a back-log list of 'Unachieved ambitions from 2012: Damage Limitation Measures'. Trust me- this is not a wise thing to do.

Anyway, as I can no longer feel the tips of my fingers I am going to bid you farewell and write to you again on a slightly warmer afternoon.

Wherever you may be, drink plenty of hot chocolate and wear ample amounts of socks.

Mx