It’s not even December yet, but my poor, sad little herbs are covered in snow. Actually, it’ll probably do them good.

I’ve reacted to the snow by deciding that fashion be damned, I can wear a good dress over manky jeans to keep my thighs warm if I want to. J has reacted to the snow by rushing to the window and taking photos at every available opportunity, which at least means I can show the internet how much snow has happened:

View of a church, with the roof covered in snow

Sadly, my squirrel-like approach to food storing hasn’t been nearly so effective this year, which means I’ll have to go hunting and gathering later. Right now though, I’m trying and failing to get some work done on my assignments. Mainly I’m sitting watching the snow fall.


What are the odds?

I moved up to the grim North just so I could play in snow come winter, and now I have been gleefully informed by J that down South, it’s effectively snowed everybody in. Humph. Of course, this is partly because the merest hint of rain upsets every Southern rail network. But it is too snowy for people to drive, apparently. He’s promised to send me photographs, and no doubt I shall post these later with a touch of jealousy for good measure. It makes me wish I were in London, because my parents and presumably my brother will have the day off, and it would be snowball fights and hot chocolate all round.

ETA: The promised photo is here. It’s a big file, annoyingly, so I’m only posting one. And it’s started snowing again in Sheffield. Happy days. I’m glad I always go nuts with food-storing. I think I’m just a big squirrel really.