Can­dles burn in the win­dows of the flat, divid­ing the warmth of the inside from the dark­ness and the snow that still coats the ground outside.

Today, after being out of the house an hour, I’d trav­elled about a hun­dred yards. All in all, two and a half hours were spent get­ting to work, and all the while Twit­ter regailed me of the tales of those lucky bug­gers who got to work from home!

Still, hav­ing sur­vived the day, I am now full of pig and cider, and busy cel­e­brat­ing a hol­i­day that I’m prob­a­bly Pagan enough to cel­e­brate the alleged pre-Christian roots of.

This inco­her­ent brain­fart was brought to you by Henry Weston’s Vin­tage Spe­cial Reserve.

<bandwagon>Snow pics here.</bandwagon>