Just a random bit I wrote about the cold snap!
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Yay snow… no wait… I’m cold, trapped in my house and lacking food after the enviable milk and bread genocide.
When did this happen? When did my childish glee of snow change to the same bitterness the wind slaps across my face?
As a child, snow was the best thing ever to redecorate the whole of the country since Dick and Dom’s ‘creamy muck muck’ covered their wholesome bungalow. For my generation it used to be so rare. In fact a white Christmas for years on end never appeared from behind those curtains of torrential rain and dullness.
Never too old..... even with childish carrot placement... January 09 |
I would yearn for those beautifully supernatural days when as a girl I would wake up early for school to find mum telling me that there’s too much snow to head in. It was pretty much if someone came up to me today to proudly present me free tickets to Glastonbury : A-Mazing!
It would be now when I would be bolting for the nearest exit of the oven and into the freezer. This is no mean feat whilst maternal forces attack with layers and layers of random clothing to avoid catching the dreaded ‘chill’.
Frankenstein slash snowman Jan 10 |
My brother and I used upturn the garden from the smooth picturesque image we had woken to into what would soon become our pride and joy snowman for the remaining few days. The garden became a war zone as we would smash the thick ice that frozen over the water butt and create a crime scene of snow angel outlines across the lawn.
Looking at my window now, whilst wrapped in bed clothes, fluffy dressing gowns, and clutching the standard hot chocolate, I think “F**ks sake!”
I seem to be unable to now separate the joys of flakey white confetti with the unavoidable lurking questions: Why is this seat belt so cold? Why wont my car start? How am I to get to work? And then the resigning thought that all my unfinished work is almost certainly going to create a fortress of paperwork around me.
It’s a sad thing that our frenzied adult lives revolve around the means of travelling to work. It’s times like these when I wished I followed my potential art career. It could be brilliant. I could draw the scene in its entire splendor. That is before I suddenly realize that we are out of milk and debate whether the local shop would be open if I braved to expedition out.
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