Ice hedge

Anyone reading this in the UK will know that we have snow, so I shan't mention it again.

I may just have to talk about ice, though. The huge puddle on the road into our village vanished this weekend. Cars splashed every last drop into the hedge, where it has reformed and frozen solid around  branches and thorns.

We have an ice-hedge, and almost no one has noticed.

In a car you don't have time to look. You don't walk this stretch because of the cars. But if you cycle - you see everything.

(And even if you fall off on the ice, you don't hurt for long!)

I'm an addictive book-buyer

My book pile is getting out of control. Every time I look, it's taller and while I could never feel easy if I had no books waiting for me to read them, even I don't need this many.

It has also been pointed out to me that my books may be using a disproportionate amount of space in our house.

I buy books because I love to read them. But I have to admit that I buy a lot more than I can read. The pile's even bigger than it looks because inside the Kindle at its base are another twenty or so unread books.

My name is Sarah and I'm a compulsive book buyer.

At the weekend I was talking with a friend about comfort eating. Her daughter eats boxes of ice cream when she's had a bad day. My friend buys clothes. I - well, I buy a book - even if I don't open it, it's there, promising escape. It feels good in my hand.

But I don't need to buy any more.

There, I've said it.

I'm not buying another book until I've read everything in this pile.

Gulp.