The icy tundra is upon us. So is this it? Finaly, the only time in (my) living memory that there is a real possiblility of a white Christmas. Thanks, global warming.
Surely Bing Crosby will be turning in his grave, after all his song was ironic. Wasn't it?
Faced with the prospect of seasonal weather rather than grey drizzle has, of course, sent the British infra-structure hurtling into its own 3 ring of hell. You know, the one where you get buggered by red hot traffic cones and you are perpetually three cars away from the service station layby and you really need to pee.
It has even sent the Continent into a flurry (snarksnark) as Eurostar recieves a massive fail. Bizarre indeed considering the Continent is usually some three or four degrees colder in winter. Not the best publicity for their 15th anniversary.
Of course I would take the Danteist buggery any day of the week if I had to choose between that and the very really prospect of getting snowed in with my mother's family. Hailing from Feltham, their distrust of anyone who can pronounce a 't' at the end of a word is superceeded only by their desire to remind you that you're fat. Depressing enough, but, being family any form of retort is verboten. Irony indeed that such criticisms come from individualu who look like the Right Said Fred member kicked out because his floral blouse, sorry shirts, ('Paul Smith, yeh, well pricy') make him look 'too much like a girl'. But now it's on the web, so HA.
Equally depressing is the level of conversation the public can start up when faced with the prospect of slightly different weather to discuss.
Entire British marriages could be based on the this one meterological event, for years to come, extremely long lungs in conversation can be pepped up simply by remarking: "Do you remember that snow darling?)
Of course the general nationwide discussion appears to go along the lines of...
Day one "EEEEEE snow"
Day Two "Could you get to work? I couldn't"
Day Three "Eeeeeee its still snowing"
Day Four "Could you get to work? I couldn't"
repeat ad nauseum
Until - "fucking snow"
The whole beautiful range of human intellect . Brought on by crystalised water.
Simple folk really, aren't we?