I’m happy to relate that my ex-Gamekeeper made it home, hiring a car and driving through the night which cannot have been any fun at all. He returned the hire car to the airport where his dad found him some time later asleep on the floor. Otherwise, nothing has happened except snow. We spent most of the day doing our tax returns: we are hoping for boiler-related activity tomorrow. Barnyards has scraped the track, including running the snowplough up our back drive. You can’t say people aren’t trying to help. Lovely friends of various persuasions keep asking us to stay, but there are so many reasons not to — the logistical difficulties of getting out of here, the need for someone to keep an eye on the place, one’s preference in time of trouble for own bed, own surroundings, and the views of Miss Kit. Starting, really, with the immense stress involved in getting to the end of the track, never mind any further.