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Unpredictable stuff, snow. Fancy it coming down in bucket loads when we were least expecting it. In the winter too. Doesn't it know we have rules and regulations for this sort of thing? "It's a national disgrace" says Kylie Binbag of Tamworth-on-Sea, filling three Tesco trolleys with Bovril. But at least the BBC are having a snowy field day (breaking news: jack-knifed lorry at Boat of Garten), sending that poor news girl out every night to stand freezing her cagoules off by a crash barrier in Gravesend. And sending a helicopter up so that they've got clever shots of white spaces to put those graphics on that say things like "Worst Snow Since 1066 (source: Domesday Boke)". Quick, lock those buses away in the garage, close that school, hide under the kitchen table until Ed Snowballs cycles through the slushy streets giving the all clear through a red megaphone. Anyway, we got out into it yesterday morning, roped together with the washing line and pockets stuffed with climbing croutons and whale blubber sandwiches. The village took on Pickwickian resonance, neighbours raising top hats to each other, the vicar tottering along saying "Isn't it lovely, God has so blessed us" and then going apse over font on the icy pavement. The photograph is of the Old Rectory, Hallaton, complete with a very recent molehill to the right of the drive. Must have poked his pink snout out and thought "Mmm. Could make a mountain out of this".
I'm pleased to hear that you are conducting your offspring in the correct manner Mr.A. Hallaton, eh, my ancestral genes are wobbling about just at a mention of the name. I do hope someone playfully chucked a snowball at the baker's van and that he stopped, got out and cried "you young scallywags, I know your mother and she'll hear about this before teatime". But I don't suppose so...wrong sort of dough.
Ah yes. Been smiling at the TV newspeople, sent out into the drifts to prove they have the White Stuff, up to their scarves in it. The girl in Birmingham had a different idea, though – she was resolutely in the studio with some snowy screens in front of her. What's TV for, after all?
Meanwhile, plenty of sliding around on tea-trays up here on the Cotswolds, followed by the dash indoors to the buttered crumpet. What a life...
Brilliant! I can't believe a nation that faced down Hitler could be undone by a few inches of snow. I see you haven't lost your sense of humor in the face of this catastrophe.
My favourite snow broadcast featured a reporter stood in front of a giant snowball - or rather, behind the large crowd of people watching a not-giant-enough-to-show-above-their-heads snowball - in a London park. Five false countdowns later when it finally rolled down the hill, the camera missed the moment. Her expression clearly showed her contempt for whoever had sent her there!
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