When you’re a northern girl in a southern city and the weather turns cold, you are expected to lead the way in a) general hardiness and b) ability to cope with the wintry extremes.
But I am a disappointment when it comes to snow.
This week’s early winter snow has thrown the UK into a complete flap (as ever), keeping the newspapers happy as they merrily churn out copy that reports the weather in detail countrywide and comment pieces that bemoan our annual incapacity to deal with snow. We clearly love having a good moan, and it distracts us from complaining about things like or the recession or the banks, which means the government isn’t going to do anything to change how we cope any time soon.
I am also in a complete flap, because in spite of my northern, hardy, resilient to cold credentials/reputation, I have never lived anywhere as snowy as London has been the three winters I’ve been here.
Here’s a map of the UK from yesterday.
The red blob is where I grew up – the ONLY part of the UK without any snow. When I was a kid I think we had one snow day off school. We had to watch snow on TV. The first time my youngest sister saw real snow, she was old enough to describe it as being like Narnia ie talking and reading books with full chapters.
So I can’t really walk in snow because I never learnt too. I’ve been wearing my walking shoes with proper tread and still hobbling along the streets like an old lady.
I have decided to be positive about this and have therefore concluded that:
a) the more I have to walk on snow the more practice for walking on snow I get
b) it’s good for me to walk like an old lady, so I can understand how vulnerable it feels to walk like an old lady
c) snow makes everything slow down, and if we just accepted that for a few days of every year, we’re physically incapable of rushing, maybe we’d enjoy the leisurely pace of it and chill out (no pun intended…), take a deep breath and be grateful for the unexpected and enforced break.