March snow

It's snowing. Doesn't Mother Nature realise that British Summer Time has begun? The clocks went forward an hour on Sunday last, surely this means that snow is banned until Autumn? Obviously our construction of time has very little to do with the elements but even so I don't consider the end of March in England to be a snowy time. There was severe hail yesterday too. For about 5 minutes the air was full of golf ball sized hail. I exaggerate only slightly. It was the kind of hail that looked painful. It encouraged Mark to grab his phone and capture the moment. By the time he'd located his phone, the moment had nearly ended but he did catch about 5 seconds of angry looking hail.

A world of white

Yet again the world outside my window is covered in a picture card painting of white. It really looks quite beautiful. I noticed whilst on a recent journey to the local shop that the footprints outside my door were rather more like leg holes. This should give you an idea of how deep the snow fall was. There is still depth to it but some melting has occurred, sadly some freezing has occurred too. The kitchen window now looks as though its made from frosted glass, the kind you get in bathrooms to prevent prying eyes from peering in. Again very beautiful but I've a feeling that any subsequent journeys beyond my doorstep will be severely hampered by that frosty under foot feeling. I tend to be very clumsy - even in warm, dry, brightly lit conditions I lose my balance. My arse seems to be inherently drawn to heading over tit so when the weather outside is all frosty snow, falling arse over tit will undoubtedly occur. I'm not a pessimist, I just know my limits. I know that my skills in snow traverse sit somewhere around the shittest side of shit. Indeed, upon a recent escapade to a nearby park with my boyfriend and his family. My snow traverse skills were put to the test - we came upon ditch which had to be climbed through or jumped over in order to commence our journey. My boyfriend suggested that I jump over the ditch and exclaimed that he would CATCH ME ON THE OTHER SIDE. Catch...me...on...the...other...side!!! What?! Now, with my knowledge and experience of poor snow traverse, you would assume that I would refuse such an offer and suggestion. You would assume incorrectly because I did as he suggested. After some hesitation, I leapt up, gravity did what gravity does, then a long held tradition of snowy slip-ups grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and I, as you would expect, landed face down in the snow. Much hilarity ensued, though I was resolutely unamused. So, as I say, there is much beauty in snow but I find that it's glittery sparkle is best enjoyed as you would enjoy that picture card painting I mentioned, in a safe, non-interactive manner.

xxx