But happily, the snow turned to slush overnight and the ice was cleared on the motorways just in time. The children and I made it to Oxford today where we saw:
- one Great Grandma, recently arrived in the temperate south from the deep, deep snow of North Yorkshire.
- three favourite cousins
- one of whom is now smiling and cooing and even more captivating than when I last saw him
- marzipan topped mince pies from Betty's Tearooms, which my brother declared to be the best mince pies he had ever eaten. They had come down south with Great Grandma the day before. There is nothing quite like a mince pie from Yorkshire to make me feel Christmassy.
- an extremely sprightly Granny with no sticks and a big grin on her face. Who cooked lunch for ten and made me forget she had a full hip replacement operation just six weeks ago. "Wean yourself off the sticks," her consultant told her last week. So she tossed them aside.
There was only one thing to listen to as I purred up the motorway to Oxford to see them all. Perfect.