Lots of snow. Snow snow snow. Everywhere. Snow.

Manchester ground to a halt last Tuesday and is still not back up to speed. The trams have been appearing at even more random times than usual. The buses aren’t bad when they arrive, apart from an increased level of blue language from the driver’s cabin. Cars on the road are mostly there for comedy effect.

Walking is downright masochism. What looks like nice, crunchy, step-into-and-chuckle snow turns out to be lumps of rock solid ice which will break your foot, if stomped on.

This is a bit of a bugger, as part of my cunning new year plan to make about one third of myself disappear in a puff of calories was to walk more. I’ve even been contemplating walking home some nights. Given that walking to the bus stop currently has me swearing like a trooper with piles, my sanity may be permanently damaged by a 2 hour walk.

It’s almost like there IS a higher power and it WANTS me to be a porker.