Snow and sieges

Snowing.  Luckily I had nowhere to travel, and was working by eight at my desk. Stayed manacled there till noon, completing the pesky but interesting freelance job before sending it into cyberspace. Finding concentration a bit hard as prostatitis taking advantage of the lull in antibiotics. After three hopeful days of feeling better than I had done for some time, the old enemy is at the gates again. Trying not to be downcast about this, and am hoping the diagnostic operation is not too many months away.

Afternoon more relaxed. Lorraine working at home in the afternoon, after long cross county drives were cancelled.

This in from Richard in Guernsey, which was on the news this morning, for its unprecedented snow: 'looking out into the garden where the palms and tree branches are practically horizontal because of the on-shore wind howling in from the bay, which is only about two hundred metres away from us. There's sleety snow coming in and the bird feeders and water bowl have ice on them. The blue-tits are clinging to the swaying feeders like Hillary to Mount Everest...The schools are all closed, no planes are flying and sailings have been cancelled so we're effectively cut-off until it all settles down.'

Wrote back saying I wished I was stranded in Guernsey.

I finished A Woman in Berlin yesterday. A part of the WW2 story that was unknown to me, what was it like to be a woman in Berlin as the Russians invaded. Although there was lots of rape and privation, it was also interesting how quickly the rebuilding started, hearing how the water, electricity and gas were back on line within the month in the writer's top floor apartment, despite the fact all the glass was shattered and the roof torn off by artillery and bombing and they were all half starving. Interesting too the scornful, exhausted humour of the book's tone, and its clear eyed refusal to be sentimental or self-pitying. Interesting to see how it compares to Saramago's Blindness, the story of an imagined catastrophe. Both memorable reads.

Battened down the hatches in the evening as Lorraine's choir was cancelled, as was her afternoon meeting.