Recently the snow fell and the news channels ramped up the advent of Armageddon for all living creatures with an ‘Amber Warning’. The snow basically lasted a morning before melting and we were left with some patches as the temperatures fell later that week. It seems that all my summers were sunny and hot when I was a child and then I do recollect my early years of driving were regularly in ice and snow. Something heavier and more dangerous than our recent fleeting flurry. Such was my proficiency I managed to drive my Triumph Spitfire into another car as my windscreen refroze. Does anyone remember that de-icer spray that worked for 5 minutes before turning, again, to ice! I then drove a Ford Sierra, with my nephew in the car, through a fence into a field fortunately missing two large trees. I achieved my hat trick of icy misadventure by spinning a Jaguar XJ6 on black ice using a fence as my brakes. The damage was considerable. This catalogue of errors did mean that when this sprinkling fell I was careful and expert. In our village most folk seemed to stay home and where others did venture out skidding was de rigueur. Climate warming means our preparedness and driving skills are poor when it snows. Another reason to keep our planet cold (?)

I was thinking that Elon Musk’s been successfully sullied by the British media and a lot of politicians because they don’t like what he says. However, why should we care what Musk says or really thinks? Undeniably the boy Musk is a loose cannon living on the spectrum with too much money and a selection of occasionally difficult political views that offend those who wish to be offended. He puts his thoughts out by X (formerly Twitter).However when we talk about his platform then how many of your family are on X? Are many/any of friends on X? If you went up the street and did a survey of your neighbours, would you find one person on X? To me it just seems only those who are political or politically inclined and in the media hang onto his every word and then relay it to the rest of the country. From here Musk gets the influence he sought.

I’m not a particular TV ‘Who Dunnit’ fan but Slow Horses was recommended and we ended up bingeing all four series. It is exceptional. This spy thriller is blessed by having Gary Oldman as the lead and Kristin Scott Thomas alongside. We had a ‘window’ of owning Apple TV after buying a mobile phone to do this. Frankly having a subscription to Netflix, Disney, Sky, Apple TV, Amazon Prime etc. is impossible and not worthwhile as it seems they seldom have a full selection of programmes to keep you interested. Don’t get me started on football being spread over five channels…

Whilst we’re talking about ne’er do wells then in Anna’s digging into my forbears we found a cousin, Malcolm. In my twenties I met him as he visited my father and sister in Leeds. I mainly recollect him being a bit flash and hiring a big car to bring him and his family up from London. However, at a young age he’d emigrated to New Zealand where he ran a ladies’ hairdressing salon until leaving for Australia to study and qualify as a lawyer in his forties. This I knew but never enquired or understood his branch of the law. It seems that the Australian police did and there’s quite a lot written up about him. The Parliament of the Commonwealth of Australia set up a Royal Commission of Inquiry into Drug Trafficking, which reported in early 1983. The narrative says that he was the lawyer who moved money around for one of the ‘Mr Big’s’ in this organised trade of importing narcotics from the Far East into country. Apart from enormous sums of money involved this activity involved many players, some of whom were convicted for murder. Malcolm, was interviewed by the authorities and his nefarious actions identified. I would like to track things further to see if he did time but our trail has gone cold. If he’s alive he’s 88 years old.

Lastly, Over Christmas and the New Year we saw a lot of our daughters and husbands over in York. It was lovely but I did reflect that many years ago, when they started courting and boyfriends visited with them, I was unenthusiastic (and out voted by Anna) that they should share a bedroom, let alone a bed, whilst under our roof. I need not have worried, things change. With the priority of actually sleeping, conflicting types of bed preferences and a light sleeping baby they split up and utilised all our bedrooms as they all slept alone!

Someone who was always sleeping by herself had a lovely Christmas and her favourite present was Grandma’s pan drawer.