Today, two inches of snow fell on my village. I would tell you in centimetres, but I never really liked Napoleon Bonaparte.Elsewhere in the Queen's Realm, several more inches of snow fell.
As a result, the media are a-scream with reports of chaos: roads blocked; motorists in peril; planes and trains delayed.
Like, man, it could be the end of civilisation as we know it.
The snow is already melting. By tomorrow, the aconites and the snowdrops and the crocuses will be out and smiling again.
Listen, you benighted foreigners, when it comes to panic, nobody does it as well as us Brits.
2 comments:
So it's just another excuse to put the kettle on then?
It used to be the best part of a snow fall for me, a couple of days off from school. And now I live in a country where the schools never close however cold it gets or how much snow falls, and I teach. It's almost taken all the fun out of a good snow fall.
Come to the good old UK: here, the teachers get days off on the slightest pretext: training days, bad weather days, bad hair days, reflective days, couldn't-get-up days, sharpening-my-pencil days. Listen, NEA, it isn't me: I hear this from countless parents in the village, who just want their kids in school every day so that they can get on with the business of life: retail therapy, going to the hairdresser's, swapping the dirt, etc.
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