White as snow...

Have you checked your weather report this week?  

According to my favourite weather website, there is a 'Yellow' risk of snow over Tuesday night, with 'accumulations of up to one to three centimeters likely',  I don't know about you, but I've walked through puddles deeper than that, so I shan't start panicking just yet. I mean, one centimeter is shorter than my grass at the moment.  Mind you, if you have the misfortune to live several hundred meters above sea level, then your snow might reach the giddy depth of five centimeters, in which case, I'd pop some thick socks and your wellies on.

Actually, when did they move to centimeters?  I suppose that giving a prediction of a quarter of an inch to three quarters doesn't really have the same impact as the old metric stuff.

I'm not sure why our weather boffins feel the need to get us all revved up with a bit of snow.  Now don't get me wrong, I absolutely love the white stuff, but it's the disappointment I can't cope with.  I know full well that I will go to bed tomorrow night as giddy as a Skittle-eating three year old, full of anticipation as to the Arctic-like conditions which will greet me in the morning.

The old cynic deep within me knows that I'll wake up Wednesday, then run to the nearest window only to see that the snow failed to make any appearance whatsoever.  The husband, who will be just stirring, and is used to my eternal unfounded optimism, will say, 'It didn't snow, did it?' 

At which I will deflate like a week old helium balloon, and mutter, 'No, it didn't'.

I think it all goes back to my school days, when snow meant school closure.  Unfortunately, I have no excuse for not tipping up at Binland as I live around half an hour's walk away, but still, who doesn't love a bit of disruption in their work-a-day life.

You never know, the weather forecasters might get it wrong.

It's happened before...


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