Snow

I'm glad I made it to Newcastle and back before the snow hit; it was still pretty cold. I didn't win the North East Teenage Book Award - Jenny Valentine did with Broken Soup.

I stayed at the Malmaison hotel which had a French-speaking lift! "Quatrième étage," it said. "Rez-de-Chaussée". I thought the second lift should have spoken in Geordie - Fooerworth Floower - but it didn't. It was a bit out of keeping to have Radio 2 piped into the public areas!

Got lots of writing done on the train in both directions.I'm now reading The Audacity of Hope, which is not such a beguiling read as the autobiography but still thoughtful and intelligent.The only other thing I read was a short story in Italian called Malinconia by Goffredo Parise. It was from one of his two "Primers" or ABCs, which produce short stories as definitions. He stopped when he got to Solitudine and then added Zero!

Youngest daughter delivered her dissertation on Thursday and we indulged in the treat of a massage - bliss!

And of course today the great news has been the snow. We haven't had it as badly in Oxfordshire as in London but both daughter and I had skids and visits to the garage. I made it to swimming this morning but won't try tomorrow.