The Toad Princess

I woke up this morning, leapt out of bed, peeped through the curtains and, guess what? Yep, snowed in again! Farmers with snow plough attachments on their tractors are doing their best to clear the roads but there are abandoned cars all over the village. The dog walk that usually takes 20 minutes took an hour because the snow was so deep. I had snow inside my boots and the older spaniel picked up snowballs on his chest and back legs and ended up looking like a poodle.

My five lovely wind-sculpted beeches stood out like sentinels over the village.

The doorbell has just rung. It is Mr Loggins, back from a skiing holiday and behaving like an excited child with all this snow on his own doorstep, while Darling Loggins looks at him lovingly. They have called to tell us we have been invited to a communal soup lunch at the Sheepwashes. Yum yum.

A few days ago it was spring. I know this because I had a different coat on, I wore shoes for the first time in months, Nobby Odd-Job returned from Down Under like a migrating Canada goose and the toad crossing signs went up in the village. And now all this snow.

I have decided not to risk life and limb by venturing to the Death Star where I am doing some freelance work. It's simply not worth it. A chance, instead, to catch up on all the things I need to do - like tidy my home office, take all my files out of the cardboard boxes and put them in the filing cabinet, graciously given to me by Mr St John's Lady Friend, and really knuckling down to my OU film and television history studies. This might mean I have to watch Titanic this afternoon. I could probably get away with not watching it. But I would feel like I had cheated. It is a barrier that is getting higher and higher the longer I put it off.

Last night I had supper with an old school friend I hadn't seen for years. His partner is a very upmarket fashion designer to the rich and famous. So, with my daughter's wedding in September, I was rather hoping that by today I would be the proud owner of a designer dress for the occasion. A woman whose sense of style I very much admire said to me last week: 'I can't image you in pink chiffon. You need to have something a bit funky.' Last night I pleaded with my friend for maybe a sample, something from the cutting room floor or one of Lady Di's cast-offs. I could see myself as a kind of Toad Princess, transformed into a high class beauty for a day. I told my friend it would be great publicity. But he was having none of it.

I've got a few months to think about it. But I know what will happen. I'll end up getting something from Monsoon at the last minute that I'll never wear again. Or maybe I could raid Pelly's wardrobe. Or maybe...yes, I've got it. I'll organise a clothes swap and be very careful about who is invited. Women who are my size and with expensive, glamorous tastes. Oh, Maddie, you're a genius.

That's about it
Love Maddie x