23:30

It's 11:30 at night and five men, all over fifty, full of curry and beer, are strolling home through the quiet empty streets in the inner suburbs. We've been to the Tuesboyz Christmas curry night and we are all behaving responsibly on our ways back home.

The streets are sheeted with white ice, so we frequently scamper along to gain speed then slide along the hard car tracks where the slush has frozen again into a perfect line of shining slickness. We are acting like ten-year olds, except that we know that this dry powdery snow is no good for making snowballs so we don't bother.

We find a discarded office chair by the side of the path down the slope of Cotham Gardens, so we grab Dan, seat him in it, then slide him down the ice while he grabs onto the arm-rests. He crashes into a tree while we hoot with laughter.

There is hardly anyone else around. The difficulties of driving have kept most other people indoors, and the snow deadens the sound of any traffic from further afield. It's a peaceful, contented walk back, the only source of noise the crisp crunch of of our feet as we break the new-frozen crust of the old snow.

:0)