Is out in her garden now, throwing snow at her little kid. She's wearing a full-face niqab and a ski jacket. I don't often see her leave the house, so it's good to see.

(Hope that's not too patronising.)

:)

..here in rural Lancashire we have the usual leaden grey skies and perpetual dampening drizzle. Snow renders any landscape more beautiful and puts an (albeit temporary) stop to most of those grinding routines that wear a hole in one's soul. I wish they'd sent us some.

This is what I posted when I got home this morning:

"It's 4.30am. I've just got home. I'm lucky to be alive.

Got stuck in the snow blizzards, on the M25, for the best part of 4 hours. Lost control of the car several times. I've never been so terrified. At one point, I spun across all three lanes of the carriageway, saw my life flash before me, convinced I was going to die. Came to a graceful stop an inch from the central reservation, facing the wrong way into the oncoming traffic. So lucky I didn't hit anyone.

Later, once off the motorway, I got stuck in a snowdrift, and two gallant gentlemen pushed my car out.

Eventually, I had to abandon the car and walk the final hour home. When I got back, my converse had frozen to my feet. I've never been so happy to be home. I'm so lucky to be alive."

Snow... usually I enjoy it. Today, I'll give it a miss. I really should go and retrieve my car, but frankly the thought's making me feel sick. Going to stay in with a hot bowl of cauliflower cheese.

In rural Oxfordshire we've had no more than a couple of inches - enough to play with, nothing too disruptive. Sounds like we had it easy - at least you got home safely. Good luck with getting the car back.

No snow at all so far. Just cold, grey & raining.

Just like fucking August.

Snow now becoming slush here.

It's a mild day so it'll be gone by tomorrow. Having said that I await the announcements from First Great Western trains in the morning about adverse weather conditions.

Fair enough - but why are you so sh*t on sunny days too?

Nice to play in.
Irritates the hell out of me, though.

I love snow, and there is no piece of music as beautiful as the absolute silence of a snowfall.
One of my favourite experiences took place during such a snowfall, back in my teenage years.
I had been to a big party way out in a distant part of the very outskirts of the greater Stockholm area, easy enough to get to but very complicated to get back home from at an hour when the subway and commuter trains had stopped running, as well as all the regular buses.
With no money for a cab I asked around at the dissolving party and figured out that I had to take one nightbus even further out from the city to be able to catch the only nightbus going into the city center from that part of the "spinache" (as we call it).
It had been a warm autumn so far and I was dressed for dancing, not for the expedition to Alaska that it rapidly was turning into.
Half an hour's wait for the first bus. Another half hour waiting for the next bus turned into one hour because by then the masses of snow that was coming down was making it difficult for the buses to run.
My thin jacket and stylish but cold boots had started to feel like a shroud covering the frozen stiff that they would find at the bus stop in the morning, having to hack my body from the icy pavement.
There was no place to get in from the cold or even out of the way from the wind, and no people except me and another girl from the same party.
Finally the bus arrived and set off towards the city, my new friend getting off the bus half way, on this one hour busride stopping in front of the Central Station. Normally a busy street, now completely dead.
I had to walk through the city center to get to another bus stop where yet another nightbus would finally get me home.
At this time it had been snowing for hours, it was around 5am on a Sunday morning and walking past Sergels Torg the normally chaotic intersection/roundabout was now a field of snow, not one single tyre track or footprint visible except the ones I left trailing behind me.
The snow was falling slowly and silently and I felt like the only living girl in Stockholm.
It was magical. Imagine a place like...Picadilly Circus or Times Square or somewhere similar, always busy with traffic and masses of pedestrians and noise, imagine it completely empty and silent and covered in a thick coat of snow glistening in the light from the streetlamps.
In spite of being in desperate need of thawing I slowed down to really enjoy this beautiful moment in time.
(A moment that I don't think could happen today, these days the subway keeps going and the nightlife stays open to the early hours of the morning, it was different back then. Everything used to have to shut down at 1am if I remember correctly, one single place was open until 3am.)
Well, that's my favourite snowrelated anecdote...apologies if I have already told you about it (also, it's probably the kind of moment that you have to experience for yourself, a description just can't make it justice).

Unfortunately I'm unable to enjoy the snow at the moment, because I'm still crippled with a back/arm injury that is doing its best to drive me insane...and for some reason the chiropractors of this city doesn't work on the weekend. Good for them, neither do I because I had to call in sick...
Sorry. Snow. It's lovely, isn't it ?

Say it again!

Love it! No plans to grow up anytime soon either. What better excuse to retreat to a pub with a roaring fire.