W ELL, the country did seem to come to a distinctly unpleasant stop during the ice and snow we had, didn't it? Mind you, we got away with it pretty well down here in Ilfracombe, but many outlying areas in our locality were impassable.

It starts to make you wonder how Britain became "Great" in the first place when a little winter weather can bring the whole country to a grinding halt. There were even questions in Parliament concerning the issue as various parties tried to make political gains from what was, after all, a very extreme phenomenon. Still, Gordon Brown is an ugly looking spud with no charisma whatsoever so we might just as well blame him for dwindling gas supplies and low grit stocks as anybody else.

Nearer home panic buying hit the High Street when somebody in Somerfield asked for two loaves of bread, milk supplies in town were perilously low and Mike Turton, probably The Best Butcher In The World, ran out of pork chops.

"I've had a bit of a run on them," he said succinctly when I asked him for a couple. It's certainly strange the sort of things people worry about when hit with a bit of adverse weather. Can you imagine some poor frightened soul watching the weather forecast with ever-widening eyes, "We might get snowed in so I must rush out and buy the butcher's entire stock of pork chops". Now that is panic buying. It's a wonder people didn't buy two newspapers in case they couldn't get one the following day.

And it wasn't even that particularly chilly. I remember when I was in Iceland, the country not the shop, it was so cold that as we spoke our words froze in the air, so we had to break them off and read them. Now that's cold!

Having said all this it did at least bring out the best in Ilfracombe's community spirit. Neighbourly people were out shopping for the elderly and others were checking to make sure homes were warm enough and there were hot drinks available. There were plenty of willing hands to help the odd car or pedestrian that got caught in the ice rink at the bottom of Springfield Road and scrapers were passed from hand to hand as windscreens were cleared.

Some people even had the temerity to clear and salt the pavement outside their house despite health and safety advice to the contrary. Apparently if you try to clear your piece of path and somebody falls over and breaks their leg you could be held liable. Whereas, if you just leave it dangerously covered in ice and snow and somebody falls over and breaks their leg this is construed as just an accident. Come on people; has the world gone mad?

If you took some hot soup to an elderly neighbour and it upset their tummy could they sue you? If you helped push a car to get it started and the driver ultimately crashed; would it be your fault? If a friend borrowed your umbrella and promptly poked somebody's eye out with it would the blame fall squarely on your shoulders?

Personally I am going to follow the example of so many people in Ilfracombe who turned out to lend a helping hand to those who needed it in the recent inclement weather and be of assistance wherever I possibly can.

As for the Health and Safety Executive, if any of them fall over, for whatever reason, and break a leg, I will laugh like a drain.

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AND NOW, as I am very often fond of saying, for something completely different.

I recently had an e-mail from a totally charming lady who turned out to be of immeasurable character and immense erudition. I know this because the first words in the missive were how much she liked my column and how she so looked forward to reading every word on a weekly basis. This lady obviously has style.

"I know how much you like Faeries," she wrote, "and then I realised you had mentioned Pyxies in last week's article."

Did I? This was me actually trying to put things in perspective. I re-read my

Journal

and sure enough there was a fleeting reference to Pyxies in my story concerning our ultimate demise from an errant star in a far off galaxy.

"I know you have Faeries at the bottom of your garden and that they can be a bit of a nuisance," she continued, "well I have Pyxies and they keep stealing next year's buds from my Camellia. What can I do about them?"

Well, having your buds pinched, especially in cold weather, is really no laughing matter by any stretch of the imagination I would think but what could I possibly do to help this distraught woman?

Should I lend her a couple of my Faeries to frighten the Pyxies away, assuming they would be prepared to take on the task? After all, Faeries can be quite vicious where Pyxies, Gobelins and other malevolent creatures are concerned. Or should I just have suggested she feed the plant profusely during flowering but not dare to over water it once the flowers have fallen.

Even as I write this I can hear my Faeries tittering away in the undergrowth; they do think they are oh, so very clever!