YOU have to smile.

During the past two weeks, both local and national media sources have rumbled on about the atrocious weather, and yet no one appeared to point the finger of blame at the Government.

How un-British! We normally blame everything unpleasant on those in authority; the Prime Minister, the mayor or even our own local politicians.

On the local radio, one ol' boy being interviewed chuckled, "If this be global warming, well, turn up the knob a bit, me dear!"

Many children welcomed the Christmas holiday extension as they rushed to acquire sledges or construct snowmen. Sometimes their young minds deal with the situation better than grown-ups, who just stare out the window or moan at the television. As a nation we don't always deal well with extreme weather, be it very hot or freezing cold.

High on the Summercourt Mountain, Madam and I were 'confined to barracks' for almost a week as the short driveway to the road was frozen hard.

Thankfully, it didn't stop postman Derek bravely making daily deliveries or the lovely Jill from the chemist ringing our bell.

Madam wouldn't let me tackle the hill on foot for the morning papers as the pavements were like an ice-rink and my back was suffering a bout of the post-Christmas blues.

Thank goodness, we'd done an extra shop at the supermarket just before the bad weather set in.

Mind you, during daylight hours the ol' sailor had to be very careful with his words. There isn't a woman alive who can happily sit at home while the shops are still brimming with sale bargains of shoes and handbags.

On the first sight of snow we expected Shannon to take fright. But after several inquisitive looks she stepped (gingerly) out the kitchen door and across the white stuff, making her way through the back garden to... wherever she goes each morning.

During the day she came in to eat and then charged out into the frozen grass like it was normal. But then, she's a Norwegian Forest cat with the thickest of fur coats and anyway 'Scandinavians' take this weather in their stride.

Tuesday morning, or was it Wednesday? I've lost track of the days, about coffee time, the cat-flap clattered and the black monster rushed in with a present of a young thrush. We managed to rescue the flapping bunch of feathers and although frightened it still managed to give me a good peck before flying to freedom after being released outside the front door. Animals' hunting habits can sometimes seem so cruel... but I still maintain there's nothing in nature as cruel as an angry easterly blow!

HISTORY records how Brixham doesn't react to changes at the speed of light!

From as far back as 1781 the sea chart of Torbay showed an 'intended breakwater' and thanks mainly to engineer James Meadows Rendel, a Parliamentary Bill was passed in 1837 for construction to begin.

Fishermen and traders could see that the port wouldn't evolve unless the harbour was protected from the ravages of easterly storms. Several events hampered the construction progress; lack of finance, concern for Berry Head and, not forgetting, the 'Great Storm of 1866' which wrecked 66 vessels and took more than 100 lives within Torbay.

Consequently, it wasn't until the newly formed BUDC took over in 1896 that the struggle to complete the breakwater resumed.

Throughout the turmoil of the First World War building slowly continued and, by 1916, the construction was considered complete.

Today, stand anywhere within sight of the Bay and the main structure filling the horizon will most likely be the Brixham Breakwater.

One thousand yards of limestone quarried from Berry Head and Freshwater Quarry. It had only taken 80 years from planning... but then Brixham never does anything in a hurry.

What does this 'lump of stone' do for Brixham? Well, apart from protecting the fishing fleet, it prevents the lower part of the town being flooded during easterly gales.

It also increased employment. When the Dencade Coaling Company established refuelling facilities from coal hulks such as the London City, more than 600 vessels came in the first year for 'bunkers', which meant many extra jobs.

It is therefore vital to maintain the protective structure and Torbay Council's Harbour Committee must surely see the wisdom in assuring that it remains safely intact.

If the port of Brixham is to remain in the forefront of the UK's fishing industry it is important that Mr Rendel's original plans to complete the Northern Arm section are achieved. Not only will such an extension give better shelter to the 'mother' industry it will protect against flooding to the lower town.

Plus, employment possibilities for tomorrow's youth, in the form of different maritime-related jobs, will be greatly enhanced. I rest my case!

AFTER being 'marooned' indoors for a week, last Saturday morning's sunshine tempted me down the hill for the papers.

I could sense that my lady wasn't pleased but the back felt a little better and I was fed up with looking out the window at the little tug anchored in the middle of the Bay.

My old pilotage brain silently screamed, 'with a strong easterly wind forecast, why aren't you tucked up behind the breakwater?'

The hill down to the paper shop was like a ski slope. Because the bus route had been salted the road wasn't so bad, but the pavements were a nightmare.

Before leaving home I'd discovered a pair of thick Donegal socks that our lovely daughter-in-law had given me several Christmases ago.

Never worn because they were several sizes too large, they slipped over my shoes a treat and helped grip the ice-covered pavements.

Jackie (the paper-shop Queen) burst out laughing when she saw my feet. "I've never seen anything so funny," she said. "I thought you'd forgotten to put your shoes on!"

I kept the humour going by telling her it was a small senior moment, collected the papers and retreated back up the hill aided by the freshening easterly breeze. Enough!