The little figure on the right is my Glam.Ass. - all 6' 2" of him in his wellied feet. He's standing in the lane under some of the mighty drifts which are once again proving impenetrable. The road is mostly blocked at our end of the Long Mountain. We can't get out and only those with the inclination and a big tractor can get in. Struggle through the drifts, slither over packed snow, skate on ice and with luck arrive unscathed on lower ground where normal service has been resumed. Or so I am told. Rumours of passable roads in a temperate valley may be exaggerated, be mere travellers' tales. I have not been out for days. Properly out that is; the thrice daily trudge to the poultry, cocooned in multi-layered clothes like a Russian peasant doesn't count.
Frankly the novelty is wearing a bit thin.
Apologies for the poor picture quality - white on white and poor light levels needed more tweaked settings than my frozen fingers could muster.