A Fresh Start

Suzy asked whether we normally get a lot of snow here in the UK and the answer, of course, is “No”. What we get each year is a dusting of the white stuff which - especially in the south of England - causes panic that might be appropriate were this to be the first stage of a new ice age.

By my reckoning we’d had about half an inch of snow here in Aaalburgh and there was much less than that in Norwich (although the decision not to clear pavements meant that negotiating the hill down to the station this evening was an interesting experience).

The forecast was for heavy snow showers but there was nary a flake to be seen all day.

I saw my second fox in four days today - the morning train disturbed one as we drew into Spooner Row and off it ran, across the snowy field to safety. This time I had my camera but the train’s windows were so filthy I didn’t bother trying to get a snap.

Apart from an “emergency” date with Dr K____i at lunchtime (I’d twinged my back on Saturday wrestling with that bloody cat and it wasn’t getting any better) the day passed relatively quietly, albeit slowly (there must have been snow on the mainframes judging by their response times) and I wandered off a little earlier than normal.

Oh well, I think they’re now forecasting snow for this evening - while out getting some tuna for that bloody cat I overheard a young lady in the shop tellng her friend she was looking forward to getting at least six inches tonight. Enough to block to rail line would, I admit, be a hardship I’d happily endure but the latest forecast implies we’re in for a clear night instead, so I fear she’s going to be disappointed.