It was -13 degrees when I walked the dogs yesterday morning and I thought the skin was going to flay off my face. The Glasgow parks are less winter wonderland and more frozen waste, with trees bent over and broken by the weight of the ice. Today, at just above freezing, the predominant sound is cracking as the River Kelvin slowly begins to move. It’s largely frozen too, except for a finger of waterfall. The herons have deserted their posts.
We’ve bought electric blankets for the two children who return home from university for the holidays. Pretty silly, really, when they’re actually here so little, but it makes me feel less guilty about being rather mean with the heating. Warning to anybody coming to visit: don’t stint on the thermals.