The big chill has been forecast over the next few days, snow and ice is set to sweep down from the north. And isn’t that just bloody typical? By the time the snow gets to the Midlands the greedy buggers up north will have used it all up and there’ll be none left for us. We’ll just get left with the frost and the odd bit of sleet. It’s not fair – why should they get one of the best mediums for taking pictures? I’ve not got a single picture of snow.

This is awful, Chris will out do me. I can't be having that, he's already got an unfair advantage with the scenery in Scotland. It's bad enough Scally thinking she can take pictures of trees.

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I woke up at 4.00 a.m. on Sunday to hear youngest moving around and called out to check if he was all right. He was fine, he said – he was getting ready to go fishing with Jon from next door. What? At 4 a.m? Yes, Dad – who was currently snoring for England – knew all about it.

That’s another reason I’m not sleeping, Himself has taken to lying flat on his back with a pillow by the side of him to support his elbow. His mouth drops open and away he goes. You can hear him snoring even when you’re downstairs.

OK, once again, I can only reiterate that I can be incredibly naive at times. I took the 'we're going fishing' at face value and assumed that the pair of them were off for a days fishing. Thick or what? Come 6.30a.m., they were both back and cooking bacon for breakfast.

And they didn’t come back alone, did they? No, the Artful Dodger and his sidekick, Charley Bates, brought five trout with them for company. Very nice, Himself said – poached trout, and I’m not talking about the method of cooking here. The little sods had walked to one of the many fishing pools around and about – and half inched them.

So while I’m bouncing up and down on the spot – not a happy person, no one else seems to have a problem with it. Jon’s Dad and Himself think I’m nuts – they can join the queue, there are plenty in it already. Poaching, they insisted, was a time honoured method of acquiring a few meals. I disagreed – it was theft – and they weren't to encourage them in the future, because apparently, this had all been discussed when the four of them returned from the local the night before. I’m just grateful that they didn’t get caught. Never mind bloody kids - it's the fathers that you have to worry about.

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And today’s pictures were taken yesterday at Trimpley Reservoir

The sun and it's reflection on the water, shining though the trees. Although it doesn't show it, it was bloody cold and I'd left my gloves at home.

And wasn't it nice of the Severn Valley Railway to send a train for me to photograph.