At this time of year, I become a bit of a bore. All right- more of a bore. Only instead of going on (and on) about books, dogs, the million best ways to eat peanut butter etc, as is my usual style, I’m fixating on SNOW.
Ever since I was a child, I’ve loved the stuff. Which was lucky as, growing up in the 1970s and and 1980s there was quite a bit of it around, even in the centre of town where we lived. In the winter of 1978, I remember an afternoon trip to the cinema, with snow already on the ground, and coming out 2 hours later to a fresh fall so thick we could barely walk home. I was quite little at the time, and the snow deep enough that it came over the top of my wellies. Ah, those were the days.
After the snow-less 1990s and early 2000s, we’ve had a recent run of cold, snowy winters. I’m a fair bit older now, but let me tell you, that snow madness is still there. If snow is forecast, I usually can’t sleep for checking out of the window. It drives my poor husband nuts.
If-IF- it has snowed in the night, I can usually sense it the minute I open my eyes. It’s the sounds. And the light. Everything’s different. It’s this that I love. The fact that the world stops and goes quiet just for a very short while.
Then, the noise starts- mostly from me- running about the house whooping, shouting to my husband, listening to the local radio for news of Snow Days, whipping my dogs into a frenzy and phoning my best friend- and fellow snow nerd- Karl.
‘Hey Snow Sister!’ is what we say to each other. ‘Did you get any snow?’
Which yes, come to think of it, is where the title for my latest book came from. But that’s a whole different story…