Out of the blue we got a frantic phone call from our friend the microholder who took Mr Frosty pleading that we take him back as he had got into and decimated (think agent orange with teeth and attitude) he neighbours prize garden, you know the type, the ones with lollipop bushes, hose pipe in a roll and striped lawns. Mr Frosty had apparently taken a liking to some very expensive shrubbery making him about as popular as Arthur Scargill at next weeks not quite state funeral.
Once he was safely retrieved and placed in the maximum stockade of Goatanamo (Mr Frosty not Scargill) yours truly went looking for snow and found the last patch on our Bonsai Mountain.
Until Reba found another.
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