'By Jove it's cold out there!'

During the night Jack Frost spread his icy fingers across the garden and left a dusting of powdery white.

When the sun hangs low in the eastern sky,

Caught in the trees that shiver shy,

Red as the robin that flits nearby,

Sing hey, for a frosty morning!

When the lane is a-glitter beneath our feet,

Powdered with crystal, delicate, sweet, 

And the quiet pond is a silver sheet,

Sing hey, for a frosty morning!

Come out, come out, while the sky is red,
over the crunching fields to tread,

Ere the frost in the kindling sun lies dead,
Sing, hey for a frosty morning!
Enid Blyton

No going out on a cold frosty day for me.......

photos were all taken from inside.