The snow hadn't even hit London when people began to panic. Personally I love it; if I open the curtains and there is a blanket of thick white snow - and plenty more falling from the sky - I get excited. But when I verbalise this, I am made to feel entirely infantile. Perhaps I am. In fact I think that I definitely am.
So the country is now under 10 inches of snow, Farnsfield had made the East Midlands news for panic buying milk (they take tea very seriously in the country), the boys have been snowboarding in the village, and I am JEALOUS. I tried throwing snowballs at my neighbours' window, but doing it by myself felt somehow dirty and a bit wrong. Nottingham has also made the news for the amount of police complaints about people throwing snowballs. I don't think I want to delve into that issue for fear of unearthing unpleasant truths.
It's the 2nd December 2010 - honestly where HAS the year gone?! As far as I can tell I was in Edinburgh for Hogmanay a few months ago, wetting myself at Gibbo's impressions of our camp Scottish actor/ impresario for the city ghost walks. We survived the Tom Tom’s New Year joke, i.e. sending us 20 miles away from civilisation and into the teeth of a snowplough with a grudge.
Jonny verbally loving/ abusing a tolerant bouncer at about 12.20am on New Year's day - shortly before he had a much discussed battered haggis.