Dr Biswell’s many friends and admirers will doubtless be glad to know that he made it back here before a foot of snow fell on Aberdeen and environs. He got here at about ten last night, having prudently nipped over to the East coast asap, thus avoiding the various nasty things which had happened to the motorways of Cumbria and Glasgow. Nasty things have since happened to the A90 (the only sensible route from the Lowlands to Aberdeen) so we are more than usually pleased to see him. Dr B thus shows himself rather more gallus than the postie, who we haven’t seen for two days — though since mail is flown into Aberdeen and the airport has been shut, there may not have been any post anyway. It’s a pity because there are various items I am very much looking forward to getting, but we will just have to wait. The main thing is, we are all here and nobody is buried in a snowdrift in the environs of Hexham & the Roman Wall.
Update: the postman finally appeared out of the pitch darkness just after five, bringing a splendid assortment of Child Art, Old Masters, architecturally dubious representations of English villages, and a number of poems. One of the poets described up here as the Land of the Midnight Professors, which I think is worth sharing.