Thursday January 13, 1977

Snow on snow on snow. Such a cold day. An 'old timer' sat near me on the bus this evening [he must have been 100 years old] said: 'I've never seen snow like it.' I fully agree with the anonymous old gent. It didn't begin to come down until 3pm and by the time I left work at 4.30 I realised I was in for a rare experience. Talk about Scott of the Antarctic!

That clapped out old adventurer has nothing on me. I was travelling home from 4.30 until 7pm. Imagine the state I was in on my arrival. Lynne had to abandoning her car on Southway and was compelled to stay the night here. Sue and Peter made it home but Lynn rang from Dave's to say she could not get home. She was close to tears at the thought of having to stay out all night. The snow - looking out onto it - looks fabulous. Mum, a romantic, says there's something magical about it. Dad battled into work at 10pm. Lynne and I sit with Mum discussing the 'family tree' lark which I've been dwelling on for many years. I'm going to make a serious attempt to trace my lineage, beginning with the Wilson family. Have a few glasses of whisky.