They had very kindly decorated their house for the match...
Unfortunately the wrong team won - but enough about rugby, it's too difficult to think about it right now (sob!).
We had both enjoyed a few glasses of wine, so we left Jeepy parked in front of their house, donned our reflective tabards and head torches and walked home. The snow was still falling, and was doing it quite a bit more seriously at this stage, leaving a good covering on the main road, but it was easy enough to walk in and we made it home in about twenty minutes.
The snow continued to fall all night, and we awoke to this:
While he was slogging through the snow, I fed the dogs and took them out. I put Cinny's little coat on her, much to her disgust, but she quickly got over her embarrassment and had a blast romping through the snow!
|Looking up at our house from below the garden|
|Our house from the field - I turned the flash on to highlight the falling snow|
|The same shot without the flash|
|Somebody bounding across the snow!|
|The summerhouse again|
After walking back up through the garden, I remembered the Vet's dire warning about having Cinny out in very cold weather, so I figured she'd probably had enough fun anyway and brought her back to the house. I hadn't had enough yet, though, and Cookie and I went out again, to explore the road towards Villemus.
The main road to Manosque had been ploughed, but was well covered once again.
|The snowplough stopped here!|
We walked as far as the little tumbledown shed which I used for Sunday Stills "Barns" a while back. I tried a few different shots, including sepia and high-contrast monochrome, but this is my favourite :
I took lots and lots of snow-scene photos, here's some of the best.
In the garden :
|I can't decide if I like this affect or not|
There were a lot of trucks stuck, unable to make it up the hill, but insisting on trying anyway, plus a few cars who couldn't make it either. He waited his turn, and cruised past them easily with 4WD engaged. Then it turned out that the Manosque road was closed - there had been an accident on the high part near Montfuron, and the Gendarmes were diverting everyone away. He had to roll down the window and produce his best French accent to tell the Gendarme that he was just going to Les Granons, 100 metres up the road.
He eventually stomped through the door, two hours after leaving home, laden down with shopping bags, to be greeted with
"Is this a bad time to tell you we're out of firelighters?"