Clare Teal: Baby it's cold outside, and I just wasn't built for winter

According to the internet, winter officially starts on December 22, so just two weeks in and Britain has spectacularly ground to a halt. Well I know I have. I set the radio alarm in good faith every morning, but when it goes off I just can't get up. I think I'll just wait for the travel news, even though I have no intention

of leaving the bed, let alone the house.

Exposing an experimental foot into the icy air I recoil and glare at the radiator which glowers back as if to say, "Listen pal I'm doing my best over here in the buff without a duvet, pyjamas and bed socks!"

Keep an eye on elderly neighbours. I rang 87-year-old Mrs Shuttleworth, to see how she was coping, she didn't have much food in so I asked if she'd pick us up a paper while she was at Sainsbury's. Seriously though, look after each other.

Our friend Megan spent a day in casualty with a suspected broken leg after slipping on the one tiny patch of ice which husband Don had failed to remove from the drive. With my calamitous accident-prone history I am banned from leaving the house, as I have an album to make.

We've blown the dust off the WiiFit and now use it as a means to keep warm, although the buttons are tricky to negotiate through woollen mittens and I do find hula hooping in a duffel coat quite restrictive.

Food wise we're trying to use up whatever's in the freezer, which is proving both nourishing and surprising as we never label anything.

From being a small child I have always been thoroughly miserable in the cold. I remember on long family walks, dad wrapping my hands and feet in plastic bags to stop them snapping off – Bridlington was particularly chilly that August. I was obviously built on a Friday with a dicky thermostat. Roll on the menopause and free central heating is all I can say. Oh, and Happy New Year.