The First Snow

I wonder how many blog posts, facebook updates, twitters, text messages, letters and thoughts have been about snow this week. I was feeling a bit at odds with it, as despite Radio 4 having numerous stories about the Siberian conditions sweeping the country, and all the photographs in the newspapers and online about the snow falling, our little town had seen not a flake, and as many times as I checked the weather forecast, there was none predicted for us.

Last night, we sat up quite late, and watched a film together. After the film had finished, Carl went into the kitchen to make us a pot of tea, and noticed that the light coming in through the blind seemed odd. When he looked, we had had a heavy snowfall, and everything was covered, and it was still falling. We are very lucky, because although we have had about eight inches we are far better off than many parts of the country, and it is that dry powdery snow which is easy to brush or dig away.

I stayed up until about 2 this morning, watching it fall. It was so bright outside, it could have been a gloomy afternoon rather than the dead of night. It is the first snowfall of the year for us, and the first that we have had in our new little flat. It is nice to be up a bit higher, and to see out a little further. I miss our old back garden though, that we could have run out into and made a snowman in, or made our footsteps make a heart in the snow.

My daffodils are blooming inside. Just as it said that it is said (erroneously!) that the Eskimo people have a great many words for snow, it seems to me that we need more names for our seasons. This is still winter, but the winter where it is crisply sharply cold, with snow, but bunches of daffodils inside, and thoughts of crocuses and snowdrops is a different season entirely to, say, the weeks before Christmas, where it is still Winter, but different. Later in the year, there will be that time when it is not yet Spring, but it feels as though Winter will never end. I am so glad we live in a country which has proper seasons.

Wherever you are, I hope you are wrapped up warm and cosy. We are venturing over into my home town today, for my Dad's 75th birthday. We are having lunch at a tea shop, then going back to their house for cups of tea and birthday cake. I have baked ginger cupcakes this morning, and need to go an ice them in a moment. Half are going to have vanilla buttercream with tiny chunks of crystallised ginger scattered on them, and the other half vanilla buttercream with shards of dark chocolate with ginger sprinkled over.

When we come home, it will be candles alight, Poirot and the papers, and a pot of tea for two. This is becoming our Sunday routine, and is blissful to slip into, gently. I am making slow progress on my knitted polar bears for my Noah's Ark set, because the sparkly wool, although pretty, is not easy to work with...so I shall try and get finished the legs, ears and tail for my 'she' polar bear.

Something else I want to do is plan a few days dinners and lunches where the main components can be frozen, dried, or tinned. That way I can know that if snow does strike badly, I have a few days worth of meals all ready to whisk together, without having to venture out.

Love
Mimi
xxx