Winter's Jacksie

Now it is raining but cold, and the pavements in the village are turned to filthy slush. The gardens, walls and cars of the absent are still bathed in snow, but snow of a type that knows its time has come, pockmarked and wet. At least I could burgle about 5 houses in this street without fear, given that those who have pissed off for whatever reason are brazenly obvious. You might say the same for the drummer's house - ie the roof is still full of snow - but this is simply to belie the temperature inside the house, namely 11.5 degrees C. I can no longer do 10ft skids on the road here; it is merely greyish sludge, and the rest of the snow longs for its own dissolution. God it looks so messy out; the pavements and road outside the window are like chopped up mash potato, on some intransigent teenager's plate. How can one thing look so beautiful and so ugly, within one day? Good luck to it though: it's pissing down and so much of the snow is resisting arrest. Up the frozen revolution.

Incidentally, I do have photos of this but my computer is so desperately old that I can't install the necessary software, etc etc (it was built in 2000 - I mean Jeez, man) - but I am certain that a 3-legged creature has walked across our back garden. There are three hoof - or paw, not sure at the moment and I can't be bothered to go out again - prints and then a gap, and then another three, all in close proximity. I had vaguely heard rumours of a three legged cat on the estate, but had never seen it. It just seems, whatever it is, to have sauntered across the lawn and towards the fence at the back. I bet the b****** took a crap at some point too. Bloody hell, that is all I need: some weird creature coming and evacuating its bowels over my garden! Yes, I will say on a future Channel 5 docu-drama, its turds were the size of tyres. No wonder my winter garlic is tardy to say the least (but then again it started badly, being saturated in cat's -or was it cats'- piss).