Nine Feet Underground

Awoke this morning to a good one to two inches of snow on the ground and snow is still falling.  Q loves the snow and is thrilled to see it. I like the snow too, but preferably delivered when it suits me, like on a Christmas morning and never when I have to drive anywhere. Today it's perfectly fine. After taking a few photos, time for breakfast.  We've booked an evening meal at a local pub that's been recommended by some of Q's colleagues, but before that Q has also got an appointment at a waxing parlour (is that the right term? Not sure I know!).  I drive us to the waxworks in a place called Old Swan, which is definitely old but seems to have a shortage of swans, not to mention a shortage of places you might expect to find swans. Unless it refers to vestas? Whilst Q waxes lyrical, I go and park in a nearby ASDA and enter within its hallowed portals. Once the moon has waned, Q re-joined me in the car, we head for Tesco where I fill up the car with diesel (it stinks and ...