A winter's tale

So this is what we woke up to Saturday morning - and pretty much every day since.

Looks beautiful - but don't let its pristine blanket of fluffiness fool you. It's a buggar to walk to work in and, since hooking up with its Baltic cousin, ice, it has launched a concerted campaign to fill every A&E across the land with poor folk trying to go about their daily business. Having done my Bambi on Ice impression a couple of times already this week, I subsequently purchased a pair of the ugliest gumboots (or wellies, as my colleagues like to correct me) on the face of the earth because they are, apparently, the best for handling snow. The jury remains out on that one.

All I can say is that Heathrow had better be open on December 18 when we fly to San Francisco or I will not be happy with this snow shit.