I called my brother and pretended I was out on the bike, approaching Woodmansterne Green and where the hell was he, but the phone had switched to voicemail and I can only assume he hasn't heard it yet. In fact, I know he hasn't, because he called me and I had to explain how I'd left a message for him.
Anyway, outside right now, the snow is falling, quite heavily. Yesterday it fell from the skies in the early afternoon and my car had to be abandoned half way along the Upper Selsdon Road. I went back there around 9pm and drove it home as the roads had cleared. Now, the snow has started again and my thoughts turn towards the Christmas tree, which we haven't bought yet. It looks as if I'll have to walk in the snow to get the food, but hey, I've done that before and it's really no hardship. In fact, it makes for an adventure and the opportunity for me to pretend (to myself) that I'm Scott or Shackleton – or a contestant on 70 Degrees North.
The bike will remain in the garage this weekend, despite Andy and I resolving to go tomorrow; although, who knows? If the temperatures pick up and the snow thaws, we might well get out there. I'll keep you all informed.
No doubt Simon Cotter out in Australia has completely different weather. I mean, the very thought of having my Christmas lunch on the beach makes me shudder, but out there it's probably boiling hot sun and foot-burning sand, not to mention warm seas and ice cream. But not here in the UK.
Anyway, I'll better hang up – or rather stop writing. Oh, on an historical note, this time last year it was snowing too, check out the archive.
