Until recently, the closest I had come to living in snow was defrosting my fridge.
It’s now been snowing for the past three days. And let me tell you – I would make the world’s worst Eskimo. I wouldn’t leave the igloo, instead I’d just sit in the corner (a bit tricky in a circular igloo), glowering and demanding more seal fur. Rest assured no seals were hurt in the creation of this post.
Having said that, the first day of snow was an incredibly beautiful sight. We spent the morning at playgroup and were the only people outside, skipping around as the snow swirled in the air. I would imagine that’s a bit like what a Dandruff Party would be like.
People in other parts of London called to ask if the snow had “settled” where we are. They weren’t asking if the snow was planning to settle with whoever was available now as opposed to waiting for her perfect man. Surprisingly. They were asking if there was snow on the ground, or had it all turned to slush. For slush is the Anti Fun. I loved the novelty of talking about snow as though it’s a regular part of my life. “The garden is covered AGAIN,” while rolling my eyes and making sweeping hand gestures.
But by day two there was much Anti Fun. It was slushy, slippery and muddy. I’m a relatively intelligent person, well relative to someone with zero intelligence, but I still managed to be surprised to find that snow quickly makes the ground wet and slippery. Really, it’s made from water? How about that.
Day three and I was willing my son’s school to be shut so we could admire the snow from the comfort of our home. No such luck. I asked his teacher if they expected the school to close and she looked at me like my head was a watermelon. “It isn’t cold enough.” Well the maximum today was minus one and there were snowflakes on her eyelashes – which I hope gave her a Fraulein Maria moment. But it still wasn’t cold enough? Are you kidding?
I am not nearly as tough as I thought.
Or maybe I just need to update my wardrobe with some serious winter gear.