The script was that we would get the forecast sunny skies and above freezing (one degree above freezing, but let’s not get picky here) weather that would allow the council’s microscopic grit distribution policy get to work melting the ice while watched Southern England collapse under the weight of, ooh, half an inch of snow.
Except it was us that got the snow… Our neighbour, having struggled into work, was promptly sent to struggle home again. The schools are closed, the council’s running low on grit, and Tescos – mighty retail behemoth though it is – has got no sledges. Honestly, what is the point of being the biggest baddest retailer around if you can’t corner the market in sledges when it snows? Meanwhile the national news is full of people cheerfully getting on with stuff and a friend writes from London that ‘only a centimetre’ of snow was not enough to close their schools. Cuh, typical. Southerners – they just don’t know how to panic properly when it snows.
But you know what? It’s absolutely gorgeous. The days are still criminally short but the snow bounces what light there is around, and in the afternoon, the hillsides are blue and gold and the only footprints in the woods – apart from ours – are from the squirrels. I’ve given up worrying about it. Apparently, the last time they had a winter like this (in 1963) it didn’t thaw until March. So be it. Let it snow*.
* Er, Weather Gods? This means you’ve won, okay? It wasn’t intended as a challenge…