First, pass the gatepost

Big debate over whether to go to work today. Did so, but only because (confession approaching) I stole from the local council.

Having got back at about 2:30am after yesterday's shift (I work 'lates' for Royal Mail), I slept for four hours from about 5am, during which time it snowed pretty hard. So by 2pm there was 3-4 inches of fairly packed snow on an upward-sloping driveway for me and my trusty Ford Fiesta to reach the top of. We made a lot of noise, but I got nowhere and she got a cracked wing mirror. Sorry, old girl.

Rang my agent, Dan. Explained. He explained that he lives in a village too, and would I please make sure I get to work today, cos "they're heaving in there"? I said I'd try.

Went back outside and got to work with a spade. Not good. Gave up and got the rake. Better; still not great. Then, one of those charming coincidences that has you grinning evilly all day, or at least until you get to work. A grit-spreader went past, with me watching enviously, then pulled over so the crew could smoke cigarettes and take discreet pisses up against the side. They left the engine running, obviously. Result: a usefully large pile of grit salt. So: Drop the rake, grab the spade, and find the wheelbarrow. I slept from 3pm til 7, then drove to work as usual.

I'm glad I did cos when I got there the guys were building a snowman on an access ramp, the one we don't use. Since I'm a carrot addict, I was just in time to give it a proper nose before the photo session.