Frosty winds made moan.

Londons Heathrow airport closed and Scotland,to all intents and purposes, cut off. The coldest night in more than twenty years. Heavy snow, freezing fog and black ice are once again disrupting Christmas travel plans. I'd always thought Christina Rosettis poem 'In the bleak Midwinter ' was a piece of sentimental flimsy but at times like this the lines : " Frosty winds made moan, earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone; snow had fallen snow on snow, snow on snow " stand out as inspired brilliance.

Glasgow Rugby Club were scheduled to play Toulouse on Saturday. The Glaswegian team duly arrived here but their kit got stranded at a snow bound Heathrow. It's still at Heathrow. The match has been rescheduled for today and the Scots lads will have to play in borrowed strip. I'm betting that the French side will let them play in their canary yellow training shirts. A decidedly unpresbyterian colour scheme. Wilf and yours truly will be there to cheer the visitors on.

Here in southern mountain country the skies are again blue and the air warm and mild. Wilf spent much of yesterday ferreting around on the banks of the little stream, gleefully tracking down enticing odours. When he got back to the house he turned on his back and fell sound asleep outside the front door. Time aplenty for a boy to bask in the sun. If we didn't know differently we'd swear that he was the healthiest dog in the world. I'd like to think he's one of the happiest.