According to my garden thermometer, last night was the coldest so far this winter: the temperature dropped to +3°C. Bearing in mind that I live 800ft above sea level in the Pennines, this is pretty remarkable: it's a month after the winter solstice, and we haven't had any frost yet, let alone snow and ice.
Last year's hot, dry summer was bad news for my garden slugs, but what we really need now is some really cold weather to kick them while they're down; the sort of cold, clear, frosty weather that hurts your lungs when you breathe in.
It's hailing outside as I type, and the Met Office is predicting a cold snap, so fingers-crossed!
Perhaps there's something in this global warming malarkey after all.
And the bad news is that I'm heading northward (to Skegness) on Thursday, & every year when we do this trip, it goes sub polar with snow drifts & temperatures well below zero!
Last year we sat & watched the RSPCA snapping dogs off lamp posts!
Slugs: I've found my trusty air rifle does for 'em and provides finest kind entertainment. For a sure kill point-blank does the job, but potting at the slimy bastards from 10 yards provides some entertainment since it gives them the (vain) hope of life. Much easier than clays, because you don't have to mix with Surrey toffs to shoot slugs. I'd rather mix with slugs and shoot Surret toffs, but the law is mawkish on that point. Twats.
Carefulwith your use of the word bastards there, Peter: some bastards might take offence.
(I asked Jen if I could have an air rifle for my birthday. She said no. She thought I might fire it at cats. She thought right.)