We had a foot of snow overnight, on top of the 6 inches from yesterday, and it is still snowing.
Our car is a vaguely car-shaped hump under a snowdrift on the road. Even if we could dig it out, we live at the top of a very steep hill, which currently resembles nothing so much as a slope of frozen death. Even 4x4 cars, which were managing yesterday, aren't able to get up and down our road this morning so there is absolutely no hope for our little Matiz.
Small Dog gave the back garden a firm paw's down and elected to complete her morning ablutions on the patio. This is probably just as well, as had she ventured out from under the gazebo, she would have completely disappeared under the snow.
Talking of the gazebo, it was groaning under the weight of accumulated snow, which PP had to knock off with a broom handle from underneath, allowing masses of snow to fall to the ground with a huge thud.
And it's cold.
Really, really cold.
So no hope of a thaw in the immediate future.
Prodigal Son has been unable to get to work but was persuaded to make the hike down to the shop where he did battle with other beleaguered residents for the last loaf of bread and bottle of milk. You may remember a similar odyssey from the other major 'snow event' early this year.
Thankfully he won and returned triumphant like a prehistoric hunter-gatherer so we have toast and tea with milk for breakfast.
However, in these current conditions our prospects of getting to KDF on Saturday are slim to non-existent.
Temperatures won't struggle above freezing till well into the weekend and yet more snow is forecast between now and then. Even if we are able to get out of our road and onto a main road at 6am on Saturday morning, it would be touch and go that we would be able to safely get to London, as we have to drive through some of the worst hit areas of Kent, uphill all the way. It's a nightmare journey at the best of times, and this most certainly isn't the best of times.