So, this morning I helped shovel the snow out from in front of our row of houses. It's hard work.
Then I shovelled a path to the coal house. Then David from the flat next door cleared a path to the gate. Job done.
Then all the snow fell off the roof.
So I went out and dug it out again. By now there's a sort of snowy, Western Front look to the place. A game of football may break out by the bins any day now.
And then it all fell off the roof again.
I've just come back in from clearing a path through that. In the midst of this most Arctic November for fifteen years I'm sweating like a pig on a bicycle.
I'm not going out again until Spring.