Cabin fever

I want to go out. I want to go out.

Look, I know I can just go out. But it's tricky. I have a little baby to think of. OK, so when I take her out in this weather, she's wrapped up warm and snug. But she needs fairly regular feeds and that, so I need to be responsible enough to not just go off and wander and that what with the roads being rather treacherous and traffic jam-prone. That's all fine by me (the responsibility thing, I mean). It's just the dratted ice that's causing me to feel trapped, to feel the fever of the cabin, to wish I were in sunnier climes. Mauritius? Mmm. Or just somewhere that could cope better with snow – and ice.

Look, I do realise that this snow is unusual, but where I live, it's not that bad. It really isn't. I recall much worse. When it snowed for a few days when I was a child, we used to have side roads gritted (oh, and novelty, even the pavements were gritted!). But now? Now, we just have roads littered with excuses for this and that, and it means that a short walk, a would-be constitutional, could be disastrous, or at the very least (without the appropriate footwear) unpleasant. See, I like to walk quickly, I always have. But, despite my Ugg-a-likes looking like they could see off any ice-challenge, the truth is that they, too, slip a tad. Drat.

So, I stayed in today and dusted. And tidied. And my back hurts now. Bring on springtime!