Snow Snow had worked its silent ministry overnight, and was over six inches thick. Lorraine returned home and I chatted to my neighbour Alex, happily trapped at home by the closure of train routes. Gatwick airport has been for the last couple of days. The Downs, which separate Brighton from the rest of the country have protected us from the worst of the weather, with people snowed into their homes just a few miles inland. Calliope pussyfooting around in the snow as I chatted to Alex, but mostly she is reluctant to venture into the cold. Bored, she is constantly treading on my keyboard, or trying to stand on desk with her front paws on my shoulder or leaping from the windowsill onto my back and biting me in unprovoked ways, howling disconsolately when I ignore her and generally making work an uphill struggle. I am compelled to regularly take her downstairs and play football with an artificial mouse to expend some of her energy. Otherwise a disorganised morning's work and then, feeli...