It’s sodding well snowing again

As a peculiarly fair-minded guest (an Englishman to boot) pointed out on Sunday, we have simply become ungrateful. Four days of temperature in the twenties and like certain labradors we know, we are whingeing, ‘but we always…’ Ay think not. Temperatures around five centigrade are perfectly legit for the time of year. But I was working with some concentration in mid afternoon when Miss Kit suddenly got up and said ‘Out Now’. I looked up, and the garden was full of whirling white flakes. Clever little creature that she is, she had picked this up and decided she needed to get into the garden before things got any worse. A wee was had, in double quick time. I must say, at this time of year, one does not love snow.

6 Responses to “It’s sodding well snowing again”

  1. Eleanor Says:

    But if the snow is on Alps, even this time of year, it is mighty lovely.

  2. Jane Says:

    On the other hand, we woke to four inches or more of the stuff in the garden this morning, and it’s smashed down all the daffodils. We have discovered, however, that Miss Dog enjoys snowball fights.

  3. The Man From Maryport Says:

    I’m told by my other half, The Woman From Whitehaven, that it has been snowing in West Cumbria this afternoon.
    It is worth remembering that for two of the three years I spent as a student in our formerly shared place of undergraduate detention, there was snow on the ground on the first day of summer term . . .

  4. Jane Says:

    I remember a dinner party I had when I was a grad student, with a couple of Japanese guests — and conceivably, M from M, you may have been there too — there was certainly someone else, and I can’t quite picture who. That flat I had in Grange Road? It was April, there’d been a good enough spring with the crocuses on the backs and all that and all that, it was a mild blue evening. Friend Yuki had good English, her chap, who was from a Samurai family, had I think better academic English but face dictated that he didn’t say anything which he wasn’t pretty sure was grammatically perfect, and this made for sticky conversations since he tended to respond to something someone had said five minutes previously. I’d fallen back on the weather and said brightly, as one does, ‘of course in England the weather can do absolutely anything’. I suddenly became aware of two oriental faces staring past me, quite aghast. The dining table was in the spacious kitchen in that flat, and sited beside a sort of light well between two buildings, with a large, long window going down almost to the ground (it made the kitchen a very pleasant place as you may recall). I turned round rather slowly, to see that on the other side of the uncurtained glass was a solid mass of falling snow. The party broke up a bit hastily because nobody was dressed for a blizzard.

  5. Jill Says:

    Milimeters of the “ruddy stuff” are falling at the moment. Norwegians slide into Holy Week onto the ski slopes rather than pews. So the weather is perfect as they revel in the ruddy stuff.
    For us the Finale of Sibelius’s Symphony No2 offers some alternate hope- a protest of sorts against the overwhelming whiteness that lurks outside the windows here in the Far North. Take heart, good friends.

  6. The Man From Maryport Says:

    Odd, the selectivity of human memory. I remember well a dinner party in Grange Road being curtailed by the sudden advent of unexpected snow, followed by an altogether Scott-of-the-Antarctic navigation homewards. Of sticky Anglo-Japanese conversation that evening, not one recollection remains . . .

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