THE ANNUAL SNOW POST

I was so looking forward to today. For the past week, weather reports have been predicting catastrophic attacks of snow. And you know how bad things get in this country when we have a flurry of the white stuff. Absolute chaos. Things can get so bad, that if we aren't made to stay at home under mounds of duvet surrounded by stock piles of canned food, candles and flash flares, then often we are at least forced to leave work early. It's great.

But, you know, I'm looking out of the window and things are not looking very snowy. In fact, it looks the very definition of 'lack of snow'. It's a no show for the snow.

As I write, desperate TV weather crews are roaming the country in frantic search of the fabled 'patches of snow' appearing nationwide, where scared and lonely weather reporters will stand and say desperate words about how they expect (hope!) things will get much worse later today. They have to goddamn it, because they've had the whole country on snow alert for one week now - being wrong is not an option!

There is still time, I suppose. Perhaps when we wake up tomorrow, the stuff will be piled so thick on the ground that going to work will be impossible. The whole country will be forced to stay at home and make a start on all those DVDs and books they got for Christmas. Then it'll be the weekend when nobody really works anyway. Snow is great.

UPDATE:
The Chutzpah of the TV weather reporters is astounding. Last night, their fizogs filled the TV screens as they tried to tell us that the predicted snow had now turned to drizzle, and that they had never said it was going to snow much, and you'd only likely get some if you lived on 'high ground' or 'Scotland' in any case. It was like they were trying to make out that the whole thing was just some mass delusion conjured up in the minds of the General Public and had been nothing to do with them at all.

Then, this morning, it's like it never happened. No apology, no explanation. Just, here's the usual January weather, cold, windy, blah, blah, blah. I suppose they'd like the whole miserable thing swept under the carpet. Well not while I'm alive.

Snow Post 2007
Snow Post 2005