Sue Woodcock: The joys of life in my rural adventure

What possessed these "walkers" to go in the first place mystifies me.

I know some of the Upper Wharfedale rescue team, local heroes in my book. They include tradesmen and skilled workers who are at the moment, very busy. There are enough emergencies during this weather without manufacturing more.

Getting around has been difficult. I have been driving very carefully and only when it was essential. At the moment I cannot drive down from my gate to my house so have had to lug things down through the snow as and when I need them.

The sheep have rushed me when I appeared with a fresh bale of hay or even a carrier bag with my own shopping in it. I have been giving them and the birds a more than generous rations to ward off the cold.

The morning breaking of the ice in the water trough has become almost a ritual. The sheep wait and watch and I get covered in ice particles and only when I have retreated into the warm do they deign to drink.

One of the Buckden Singers' carols was Glory on a Christmas Morn and it was highly appropriate. Christmas morning was indeed glorious: the sun was shining and the countryside was bright and beautiful.

As I left for church there was a photographer by my gate taking advantage of superb light and spectacular scenery. He took a picture of my sheep following me in a line up the track to the gate.

The sheep have been interesting to watch. They make paths through the snow and seldom deviate from them. The dogs are not so worried. They have been cavorting in any snow they can find and the field looks like a badly made bed when they finish.

Once the roads were better I went up the dale and visited my friends and met my new godson for the first time. He is perfect and is called Sheldon George. Sheldon, so I am told, means born in a steep sided valley. He even woke up for me and stared at me with blue eyes.

On the Sunday after Christmas I got my special present. I had heard about an abandoned disabled collie bitch who needed a loving home. It is hard enough to get fit and healthy animals adopted, so this one needed me. She is so beautiful and I have called her Mary. She was very excited and a bit hyper when she first arrived but has calmed down and delights in affectionate romps. We did have a bit of a difference of opinion about the ownership of my bed which I eventually won.

The carol service at Hubberholme was beautiful. Candlelit and very evocative. It was almost as though the ghosts of many worshippers from the past were present with us. The church was packed which, considering the weather conditions, was an indication of how highly it is regarded.

The next day the wonderful young Frenchman from the choir visited me. He took lots of photos and asked about the history of the place.

He asked me why I chose to live such a hard life and after some thought I told him that it was an adventure. That morning I had been mining for coal in my snow-covered coal heap. That was after I had replenished the diesel in my generator, fed the animals, walked the dogs and attempted the washing up. Roll on better weather in 2010.