We walked out the front door around nine and Crumpet started, shocked by the whiteness she lept back. Soon though she was ambling along eating snow and painting some of it yellow. After an evening holed up in the Lewes Arms, supping pints of Harveys Best, we ventured back and took a walk up Chapel Hill (the rat you see pictured at the bottom later spent a good quarter hour gnawing icicles off her leg fur).
The net of lights over the Lewes Christmas tree is a disgrace as far as I am concerned. A piss poor effort by the council.