Snow! Whoopee !!!

Yet again, my favourite thing has happened. Yes, it snowed.

Fortunately, it wasn’t much and didn’t settle, at least not on the roads, and disappeared as quickly as it came. It had been expected and local authorities and transport companies were prepared. But more is promised.

It never ceases to amaze me how much I stress about snow. It is the only form of weather that really upsets me, for two reasons:-

1.    It disrupts my life so much

2.    I am scared of falling with my dodgy knees and bad back

I dislike being cold and I hate being wet, but I can live with both because they don’t really interfere with how I live my life and I’m not scared of them. But snow gets me every time.

I never liked it even when I was a kid. My friends would go out into the snow with gay abandon (that’s before the word ‘gay’ became distorted in its meaning and was a trigger for sniggering) chucking snowballs about, making snow angels by lying flat on their backs in the stuff and making hazardous slides on the pavement so they could slither along the street then fall flat on their arses (and so, by the way, could most of the old ladies who lived there too, although for them not intentionally). They did all this and laughed all the way to their hot chocolate at the end of it.

I never joined in. If at all possible I’d stay inside, cocooned in my warm lounge, watching out of the window. If absolutely forced to go outside in the cold, I’d sit miserably  on a bench occasionally getting pelted with snowballs and being called a sissy.

But it wasn’t lack of adventurousness which put me off; I’m not a wimp, although now I am older and wiser I won’t put myself in a potentially hazardous situation if I don’t have to. I used to ride my bike (which didn’t have any brakes) down Chalkpit Lane in the early 1970s racing several others. We fortunately never met a car coming the other way, and we had some spectacular crashes at the bottom, but I was never scared doing it although it was, arguably, much more dangerous. I just don’t like snow – simple as that.

I am, as those of you who know me well understand, much happier in a warm climate. Being able to spend your life outdoors for most months of the year, not being cold or worrying about whether it will chill later so should you take a cardie is the way I want to live. Being able to walk around and drive without worrying about black ice, poor visibility because of snow, or having to make sure I have a shovel, blanket or bar of chocolate in the car for emergencies is my ideal situation.

My oldest daughter has taken my granddaughter skiing this week, and little Ruby will be going into the nursery class with all those four year old French children who are practically born wearing skis. My daughter enjoys skiing too, although why you would go to all that effort to get up a mountain, just to slide down it on pieces of Perspex is beyond me. But each to his own, and its just as well we don’t all like the same thing.

If we did, there’d never be room on my favourite beach!