I’m sure that many of you have read about Great Britain’s embarrassing lack of ability to deal with snow.
It snowed on Sunday evening as Ian and I were tidying up for the delivery of our new bed(!). Ian commented that wouldn’t it be wonderful to be snowed in.
How on earth could we be snowed in, in South East London?!
Peeking though the windows on Monday morning brought a different world. Snow. Lots and lots of snow. But sensible northerners as we are, we dug out our path, dug out the car, pulled the wellies out of the loft and trudged off to work.
Or at least we tried.
There were no buses running anywhere in London. At all.
Our train station was closed and no trains were running in or out of London on our line. Simple message go home.
Ian being the very dutiful type worked from home all day. Client calls via our home phone with me hiding in the guest room sorting out the book case (a job I have been putting off forever) so that I didn’t overhear anything confidential.
In the end I put my foot down. Enough was enough. I wanted to go for a walk in the snow and I was going whether he came or not.
We have a magical little nature reserve about 5 minuets from our house. It actually back on to our road, but you sadly can’t get into it from here. So wrapped up in clothes we had long packed away (we live in the South now, why would we ever need these?!) and set off to a magical winter world.