Conor, my young neighbour and occasional apprentice, created Mr. Snowman on my boat when the first flurries settled in Wivenhoe. But a rendezvous proved that Snowy couldn't talk as he had originally been built with no mouth. 

That was soon rectified with Conor's return trip today, and Mr. Snowman and I were able to have a nice conversation. 

I told him how much I was looking forward to sitting outside the pub, having a few pints and chatting among friends in the warm sunshine.

He looked at me, horrified at the very thought.

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