Life in snow-motion

I am awake before my eyes open. Animated whispers slip through my dreams.
Snow...Snow! 
I mumble an incoherent reply of suitably sounding encouragement to my two very delighted boys. Himself turns from inert to alert in a moment and is at the window confirming the boys declaration of the winter wonderland. Make that three delighted boys........

I just pull the covers up over my ears in symbolic hibernation.....

snow = cold. 

Brrrrrr. 

But.... with my three, 

snow = fun. 

Double brrrr.

So, I reach for my camera and my thermals as they reach for their sledges.  I also reach for my scarf, hat, mittens, over-gloves, over-trousers, coat, body-warmer and some crochet - well you never know! C'mon... I mean, while they are whizzing up and down in the cold, I shall stay firmly put in the warm car and continue with my WIPs.

And whizzzz they did!

All three of them hurtle down the hillside with fearsome speeds, sporting such glee on their faces that I could not help but tog up and leave the relative warmth of the car to shiver and take pictures.

As they fly down the slope, giddy dog sprints alongside at full stretch, racing each one with such obvious doggy delight.

The boys, all three of them,  slice down the cold hillside until it is almost too dark.

We pack up and head off to our favourite town in the Dales, where we sit on an icy cold bench in the square, eating finger-burning piping-hot fish and chips and listen to a jazz band playing festive melodies. A couple of warmly dressed revellers dance next to the town's Christmas tree, lost to the music and to us, their audience.

I surprise myself that despite my numbingly cold cold feet and frozen bottom, I am actually enjoying this but am equally ready to go back home, light the fire and settle down for the evening where I will gently defrost.