HOME.. please?

Today I have limited enthusiasm in work, compounded with a side of no interest drenched in apathy! I know every one hates Monday’s, the thing is, generally, I don’t, however this Monday feels like it should have been consigned to the trash can early on. So, in the interests of my sanity, I have written the day off to predominantly attempting to look busy and surfing the net. Even with these kinds of low ambitions I may not reach my goal, however I shall endeavour!

What, I hear you asking has brought on this bout idleness? Well, to put it simply, I am exhausted! It all started like this….

Friday, our day of regrouping before the weekend, we were invited out for a ‘quiet drink’. I should have known better, there is no such thing as a quiet anything with our friends - I can only put this down to being foolishly optimistic. Even more foolishly however I offered to be the designated driver (much better to have been the drinker than the driver!) The pub was filled with discrete couples and groups chatting quietly and having the epitome of a ‘quiet drink’. Enter the Zimbabwean contingent…

I must admit, when we arrived, the boys were looking very civil, this soon descended into raucous laughter and debauchery. Ending with the drinkers polishing off all the Yagermister (sp) the bar owned and suspect versions of love songs sung to beautiful woman. All and all an evening of embarrassing revelations, free entertainment for the other patrons (dodgy dancing to footloose) and many, MANY, mocking stories for years to come! (woot woot – sorry Bobby, had to do it!)

Saturday dawned bright and sparky for some (i.e. ME) and a dark and cloudy for others. I must admit to a certain smugness at my lack of hangover, it was unfortunately short lived as we had to do repairs to the shower at the rental. We had just finished when the phone rang asking what our afternoons intentions were .. here we go again.. So of we headed for a braai (BBQ) at Trev’s house with Tanya (my sister) joining us there. It was a great afternoon/evening we played games, gossiped laughed and ate until we could eat no more. However it was another late night!

We made it to bed after 1, and up and rushing at 8 to go walking with J&J. By now we were both talked out, it was a very silent trip to our meeting point interspersed with curses when we could not find our final destination! Luckily Americo and I are such happy people and, once we had navigated ourselves to civilisation, the world was back to rights. We had a lovely walk, although my suggestion of shorts turned out to be rather rubbish as we were stung, mercilessly, by stinging nettles! Bloody country life!!

After reading this you are probably feeling as exhausted as we were however…. It was not over! Nope, we still had things to do and people to see.. So we leaped back in our little car and headed over to Ham to meet up with S & I and their families. We eventually touched down at the home base last night after nine to sort ourselves out for the week ahead.

So you see, having burnt the candle at both ends I am feeling a little jaded and uninterested in what today has to offer – unless it is offering a good nights sleep!

WHISTLE WHILE YOU WALK

Today was my first day walking into work due to strike action on the tubes - I hope you are all suitably impressed with my dedication. It took me just under 2 hours, door to door, to amble my way into the office and has given me much entertainment…

Firstly, I went online to search out my best walking route from London Paddington to St Pauls (in the City of London). The best website I have found is http://www.walkit.com/ – it gives you all kinds of handy information such as, distance, time .. if you are a fast walker, moderate or tortoise and how many calories you have expunged from your system. By the way, I classify myself with the moderates.

Average walking time is 1 hour 20 minutes, 6930 steps, 6.3km or 3.9 miles and total calorie usage….. 332 – what a complete waste of time! Luckily I am not a calorie counting kinda girl, but even so I was somewhat demoralised by the minuscule amount versus time I could still be sleeping! However I will, grudgingly, admit that I did feel my fat reserves reluctantly loosening their grip upon my person.

With the strikes everyone who utilises the Underground has had to make alternative plans, mine was to use the overland then leg it the rest of the way. Others are using the bus routes – faster to walk if I am honest – and others still have pulled out their bicycles. And thus begins my story…..

Whilst navigating my way into the office I stopped at a traffic light – Enter our leading man. He was turning onto the road I hoped to cross, looking not as confident as one would hope. Usually at that time of the day the world passes me by with little impression, I am therefore unsure what caught my attention. Was it the wobbly bike looking the wrong side of controlled? Or the face above the handle bars flushed and anxious? More likely it was the hooting. Whatever, the impression of this middle aged man riding into work clinging onto the handle bars like grim death, simultaneously trying to read a map has made me chuckle all day!

I know it is cruel, and maybe you had to see it to fully appreciate my amusement. But SERIOUSLY – when you haven’t looked at a bicycle for the last 20 years what makes you think it would be a good idea to ride, into London, on tube strike day, when the roads are heaving?

As it turns out walking is not really all that good for me either. Usually I am safely tucked away from temptation on the underground. No so today, having wondered down all the best shopping streets in the city I now want to spend, Spend, SPEND!! Luckily everything was closed on my way in – I doubt I shall be so lucky on my way home.

Now I must sign off and saunter homeward.

STRIKE!

After an extremely lazy weekend, Monday came with all the force of a hurricane and Americo has been manically busy ever since.

Not sure if I mentioned this but Americo, after 4 years, has decided to go permanent at “The Company”. His new role is a marriage breaker.. seeing Americo up at 5.30am and back between 10pm and eleven. Last week I waited for him to get home so that we could eat dinner together, this week I have learnt my lesson!

You can imagine that I am therefore not getting to see much of my husband and, as a consequence, am beginning to forget what he looks like! In order to rectify this situation I have come up with a cunning plan…. Firstly I have given him a code word to be sent, via telephone, 30 minutes prior to arrival. Once at the door there is the secret knock followed by presentation of photo ID.

Tomorrow is the beginning of a 48 hour tube strike which I am looking forward to with eager anticipation. I am so dedicated to my job that I like nothing better than to take a casual stroll (2 hours of causal strolling!) in order to fulfil my duties.

What are they striking for? Well, the RMT Union having consistently provided a fairly shoddy service for years would like a 5% pay increase.. on top of whatever increases were handed out last year. They would also like guarantees that there will be no redundancies (wouldn’t we all?). Who, might I ask will be paying for all this? That is right, I, along with my fellow commuters will! I could go on for hours with this topic but shall constrain myself – aren’t you grateful?

Almost forgot, I received my new passport yesterday, all very exciting especially as I bare a striking resemblance to Casper the Friendly Ghost.. who has just escaped from prison. So happy that I get to keep this one for 10 years!

Think I had better sign off quickly as this post is taking a rather bitter turn! For those in London – happy travels for tomorrow ;)

IT'S PINK!

The other night Americo did a load of washing. As a red pair of fisherman trousers we got in Thailand would be included I reiterated that no whites, whatsoever, should be involved… You can see the impending doom.. I transferred everything from washer to tumble dryer and guess what I found? Americo’s once very manly football socks were now a lovely shade of salmon, along with his ankle guard and some other choice items. I have to admit to a little chuckle of amusement seeing my husband rushing about trying to get his gear together with pink ankle guard on one foot and a jaundiced expression directed at the socks.

I have not always been the ‘demi-domestic goddess’ you see before you. In fact when I came to the UK my kitchen skills consisted of nuking a potato in the microwave and not much more. I remember one boyfriend’s mother saying ‘She is lovely darling.. but I don’t think she can cook!’

My second home in London was a houseshare on Fladgate Road. I was living with a group of friends from Zimbabwe along with my brother and his wife. Being so far from home we were more a family unit than a typical shared house. Everyone had a duties partner and each ‘couple’ had their chance of cooking a proper meal once a week. However, as I could not cook my partner would only allow me to watch and clean. The one day, seeing me wielding a knife, he removed the danger from my hands and asked me to please sit out of harms way.

To return the kindness I offered to iron his shirt whilst he cooked dinner. All I can say is it seemed like a good idea at the time. It started off so well, that is until about half way through when the iron got a little sticky and I lifted it to find a newly inserted hole. After this episode not only was I banned from the kitchen but my washing duties were limited to putting the washing machine on where upon magical little Fairies would descend, transfer them to the tumble dryer and onwards to my bedroom all neatly folded! Oh how I miss those days!!

This weekend is a busy one for us, we have my cousin’s 40th birthday party which is themed fancy dress. Americo has been inspired, suggesting he will be going as .. himself! Hmmmm. I on the other hand intend to make just a little bit more of an effort within what we have at home. Do you think I could put my wedding dress back on and go as Julia Roberts in The Run Away Bride? No? I didn’t really think so either. Undoubtedly something will spring to mind between now and tomorrow.

Sunday we are walking with friends round Henley on Thames with a little picnic at some halfway point – lets hope the weather stays as beautiful as it is today. Finally, as Monday is a bank holiday, we are off to the park for volley ball. After much beating of chests last weekend we have a tournament of some description going ahead. My money is on Americo and Bob, mostly because the are brutal and hate to loose!

Tuesday is my op so I will probably be out of commission and off the blog until the following Monday.. Until then!

FEEDBACK WANTED!

Can you believe that I have been writing this blog for almost 3 months, and what fun it has been! Unfortunately I am not sure it has been as much fun for everyone who has read it, so please leave me some feedback so that I know if I am doing things right.

Today has been exceedingly dull in the office as we have had a systems meltdown leaving us with no e-mail for the last two days. Realistically I know that this should not be a problem, however most all of my work is client related and directly linked to e-mail. Now I know that I could get on with doing filing or something equally brain numbing .. but the truth is I have not quite reached that level of desperation! Instead I have resorted to alcoholic entertainment and am currently sipping a Pimms whilst staring wistfully at the sunshine outside.

My office is placed in a beautiful square in the City of London, we have a lovely little park with remnants of the original Roman Wall that surrounded the London all those years ago. At our main entrance there is a huge hedge dividing our office from the park and partially concealing a little patch of green around the corner from the rest of the garden, all the smokers gather here.

One day a few months ago, whilst out for a cheeky puff, I noticed a sleeping form, lying on the grass, on the other side of the hedge. I thought he must be some vagrant having found a quiet spot to rest his weary head. I came to refer to him as The Sleeping Man, he being there almost daily.

Anyway, yesterday was so beautiful I wondered into this secluded area. After about 10 minutes a well dressed gentleman arrives with a rucksack. He proceeds to scout out the area, then pull all kinds of paraphernalia from his bag, including an inflatable mattress.

Well I looked at him and he looked at me.

Finally I smiled and said .. ‘Are you the sleeping man?’

To which he responded that he was and that he suffers from narcolepsy (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Narcolepsy) . Basically he comes to the park, everyday, rain or shine (even snow), sets up his camp site and has a quick kip for an hour or so.

Now I am not sure if he was taking the mick, but truly he blew up his mattress, lay himself down and promptly drifted off into the land of nod!

How ironic though that ‘the sleeping man’ literally is THE sleeping man!!

FOOD GLORIOUS FOOD

Today was demonstration day. For the most part things have been fairly quiet with a few scuffles, some damage was done to the RBS bank near Threadneedle Street with windows broken and computer equipment thrown out the building. Of course no good protest can be held without defacing something of cultural value such as the beautiful statues outside the Bank of England. All and all a complete waste of time, money and effort for no gain! What they actually should have done is said to the Government ‘we are thinking of demonstrating, it is going to you a minimum of £10 million why don’t we put all that cash towards feeding a few of the deserving starving?’

As the masses have been roving about the streets, city workers have been encouraged not to stray too far from workplaces, in the case of some Bankers not to leave the building at all. The skies are teaming with helicopters and only now is silence descending on the City. I won’t go on as this subject has had much coverage throughout the land. One thing I will add though is a link to a ‘mock the news’ type website that had me in stitches.. enjoy

http://www.thedailymash.co.uk/news/business/city-workers-urged-to-dress-like-scum-and-talk-about-%27corrie%27-200904011676/

Now onto other things. Today I have over indulged in all things revolting and feel that I may have too revoke my firm plan not to do any exercise this side of .. well .. ever. I have successfully munched my way through 3 Krispy Kreme doughnuts, a bacon & cheese croissant as well as a Pret croissant washing this all down with 2 cans of coke. To be honest if it had only been one of everything I would have felt fine with my consumption, as it is I have totally grossed myself out.

I have a funny relationship with food. Unlike Americo I won’t ever cook a meal just for myself - if I lived alone the kitchen would be as a desert.. Seldom visited! Bizarrely, due to Americo’s love of food, I have become quite proficient in the kitchen. This is more a testament of Americo’s cooking skills than my desire to please him.

Nope, my true love lies in all things junk food related, generally I am not excessive, the problem comes when I try to limit myself. The minute I feel as though I am denied I get overly obsessive and cannot rest until I have had what I crave. The old adage of nothing to excess definitely applies to me. So on that note I shall be refraining from getting the bus home and doing a 20 minute power walk instead!

DREAMS

Last night my dreams were littered with many various and unsavoury characters. I do not remember in detail all that happened but can recall there was a ‘dark’ production of Mama Mia set in swamp land, with a haunted house and the requisite ghosts and ghouls. My imagination truly is alive and well. I only need to watch, read, see or speak to someone and if it makes an impression (good or bad) you can be guaranteed that I will be dreaming of it that night.

So what does my Haunted Mama Mia reproduction represent? Well, I have a feeling that it has something to do with the G20 demonstrations and predicted riots expected in the City tomorrow. Nothing like the slogans of ‘burn a banker’ set to Abba!

Speaking of the G20 demonstrations there has been much speculation about how things will be in the City. Many employees have been advised to either stay home, work from non city based offices, or, if coming into the City, keep a low profile and refrain from any external meetings. Bank of England and the surrounding buildings have boarded up their offices and all is in preparation. But what are we REALLY expecting? Will these just be peaceful demonstrations? Or will it be a re-enactment of the 90’s May Day riots that caused millions of pounds worth of damage with thousands of people running about the streets of London with mayhem on their minds.

I will have to up date you tomorrow. All I know is that I have stocked up on my coke rations along with snacks and other edible necessities .. just in case!

TGIF

Today I have travelled London! I have been to the City, The Docklands and shortly I will proceed to The West End and hopefully home. Aaah my poor feet! Admittedly I am not wearing the most appropriate shoes but what can you do? Is it not like I can roll up to a clients office in my tatty old trainers.

This weekend should hopefully be a fairly relaxed one mostly consisting of rearranging the mess that is our household a haircut and lunch. Sadly the best laid plans and all that.. I have just had a call from a friend, who we are meeting next weekend for lunch. Saying that he is now working shift and that the lunch for next weekend needs to be moved to this, which means I am going to have to try and move the lunch we have this weekend to next. When did arrangements all become so complicated? There was a time when I did not need to have a calendar to keep track of our social lives but now things have gotten out of control.

SOMEONE AT THE DOOR

On Friday night, as I sat at home awaiting the appearance of my husband, there was a knock at the door. Americo hates me opening the door to strangers when I am home alone, so I dutifully looked through the spy-hole and saw a little old lady upon the step. What a conundrum, to open the door or not? Courtesy won the day and I enquired as to if I could be of any assistance. Turns out that she did require some assistance, but not for something I was prepared to give!

Once I had opened the door she asked where the previous owners had gone, did I have a forwarding address etc, etc. I answered as best I could that they had moved on and unfortunately I did not know where too. She then proceeded to say how lucky we were with our house as they, the previous owners, had done a spectacular job of doing it up. I agreed, wondering where this was all leading too, I soon discovered…

“So,” said my unexpected visitor. “How many people live here, just you by yourself?”
“No, my husband as well.” I responded.
“When the previous owners were here I toured round the whole house, I always used to come round for tea.”
“mmmm” I responded noncommittally.
“Nice big house, two bathrooms, the top bedroom is very nice. The one with the en-suite.”
“Yes it is I agreed” wondering when it would be polite to withdraw
“Well, my daughter is getting married in a few weeks and I was wondering if she could move in here?”

Words fail me! I graciously declined her request for family to move in with us.. twice, when asked if I was ‘absolutely certain’ and beat a hasty retreat once the suggestion of dinner came up.

After disentangling myself, I called Americo to give him the latest update from the home front. He, unsurprisingly was flabbergasted saying ‘I’ve told you not to answer the door to anyone!’

So, what is the moral of my story? In future I shall pay attention to my husbands wishes .. at least in this case and ignore anyone who knocks on the door without a gilt edged invitation!!

LIGHT UP, LIGHT UP

In my excitement about spring I forgot to mention that this weekend just gone Americo and I went, with friends, to the Snow Patrol concert at the O2. Walking about the O2 you would not believe that there is a supposed credit crunch slamming the quiet shores of Briton. It was heaving, with queues to get into bars and restaurants you had to fight your way out of the complex to get some fresh air.. or in my case a smoke!

The main act started at 9 so we made our way into the arena at about 8.30pm and managed to get a surprisingly good standing area. As we were fairly close to the front we were in the thick of things with the swaying masses of sweaty bodies. Neither Americo nor I are huge followers of Snow Patrol but we do enjoy their music and there is definitely no better way to appreciate a band than when there are 15 thousand people singing along! Saying that I must admit that my days of being a groupie are well and truly over.

With no smoking allowed in enclosed spaces you get the full sensory attack of bad body odour to name the least offensive. A true delight when you are new to the world of concerts but one to be avoided at all costs if you have a sense of smell! Although, the 17 year olds behind us shouting ‘We love you’ added a certain element of innocent enjoyment; not so the gromit up front who kept sniffing her armpits ….

Feet aching we limped our way home via tube and bus to crash into bed. Ever since I have had their song ‘Run’ stuck in my head never to be displaced. So, in the spirit of sharing here are the chorus words to said song, enjoy!

Light up, Light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I’ll be right beside you dear

CARS...

I was in such a hurry to leave Zimbabwe and do my two or so years of travelling that I didn’t bother to get my drivers licence. This never caused me much of a problem as London is incredibly commuter friendly. Once I had been here awhile I decided that I ought to get my licence, being the responsible adult I had become. So I started taking lessons, the only problem was my instructor turned me into a nervous wreck and after my second lesson I vowed never to set foot on the drivers side of a car again.

I had quite successfully nominated Americo as HEAD DRIVER, this being a win-win situation where Americo got show off his manly driving skills and I could sit there being suitably impressed. However, things were blown off course, when, after much coercion from both Americo and my mom I was lured back into the driver’s seat and got my licence. Americo’s favourite thing was to ‘encourage’ me to drive to the shops.. on my own .. and do the shopping. A very cunning plan of his under the guise of helping me get driving experience, when in reality he just did not want be involved in groceries! I do actually enjoy driving but thought I might share some of my funny experiences in this area..

The first time I went out to the store on my own I had to park the car, no problem… weeell maybe a small one, not enough room for me to get out the door. Easily remedied – jump out the other side and hope the next person who parks is at a distance from me! One slight hitch in my plan, there was a bloke waiting in the car beside me, obviously I could not clamber over the passengers seat, so after much scrabbling about in my bag I come up with some lipstick and pretend to apply. Eventually he left and I dashed out and did the shopping.

Sometime after this Americo, who was completing his ACCA and doing courses on Saturday’s, woke me up at some ungodly hour to take him to his class. I won’t mention my morning thing again but please bear this in mind when you continue to read.

I was persuaded to drop him off and given instructions to fill up the car, how hard can it be? After leaving him to get educated I went off to the nearest service station to ‘fill up’ the car. Hmmmmm… I had not stalled the car AND I’d managed to park within reasonable distance to the pump.. i.e. the hosey thing could reach. Out I got and managed, quite successfully, to get the cap off the tank and start filling the car (as you do!). Once I was done I went in to pay the delightful little fellow behind the counter. He looks at me, looks at my car and says “that will be 28 PENCE please….?”. Had I been more awake I would have handed over my card and said ‘Thank you’.

As it was I tried to explain that I had never filled a car with petrol, in all good third world countries we have petrol attendants! To be fair, if he had handed me a Jerry can and hosepipe I would have managed quite perfectly, thank you very much.

That evening when Americo returned I told him of my distressing car filling (or not) experience. Being the lovely, supporting boyfriend he was at the time, he keeled over and packed out laughing. Men are so smug!

I, however explained the epiphany I had had – next time I have to fill up the car I shall wear a very low cut shirt and incredibly high heals and request much assistance… I have never had to fill the car again.

AUSTRALIA

This weekend we had friends round for dinner. There were 7 of us in total and one baby addition. I love nights like this, good food, good friends and good drink! Not that I am a major drinker, but I must admit that when you are sitting round the table, solving all the worlds problems, there is nothing better than a good scotch on the rocks. Saturday night was extra special as we were introduced to J & J’s little daughter, who is very new to the world at a month old. She behaved wonderfully and to be honest by the end of the evening I was feeling that little tug towards motherhood. Not so Americo!

Americo comes from a family of all boys, his experience of babies is nil to non existent. In fact I remember when we were dating in Zimbabwe and his sister in law brought round his newborn nephew for a family introduction. Americo peered into the pram, lifted some blankets, looked blankly at L and said “where is it?”. Some people love babies, some people don’t, Americo on the other hand just has no idea what to do with something so small!

As I have mentioned before we (I think mostly me) were looking at applying for our visa to Australia. Mentally I have already relocated, planned where we are going to live and envisioned everything. I cannot see us settling here, in the UK and at the rate Zimbabwe is floundering I cannot see us settling there either. This leaves us in a very tricky predicament. Luckily when I chose my husband, I selected best of the man brand. Americo and I are very good at different things, I tend to rush ahead with mad-hatter schemes, looking into this and that, whilst Americo ponders the options set before him, then tackles them in an irritatingly logical way - thank goodness I married him as I am not sure anyone else would stand so strong against the force of my will!

Americo is a natural pessimist whilst I am an eternal optimist and the one trait we both share in abundance is our tenacious belief that we are correct… However, after long discussions I learn to temper my enthusiasm and he takes on some of my excitement. So what about Australia? Well my friends we have decided to delay. Our decision will be made once we have returned from our holiday to Aus in December. This is a revoltingly sensible and depressingly logical decision but will, I am sure, eventually lead to the best outcome.

Meanwhile time marches on, we only have a month before we are off to South Africa and our diaries are fully booked until then.

HOUSE SHARES

I first arrived in the UK at the tender age of 18 and moved into a small house-share with friends from Zim. The saying ‘you never know someone till you’ve lived with them’ has never rung more true.

I landed in London having been given various warnings about the people I would meet. My particular favourite was “don’t look at any one in the tube.. you will get stabbed”. In reality I should have been warned about the people I was to live with. Having come from a small town and lived a fairly sheltered life my new home was a huge shock to the system.

We moved into a third floor, ex-council apartment, near Bethnal Green station. There were no elevators, a prevalent smell of piss along every corridor and a huge sign on the stairs requesting ‘NO SPITTING’. Independence!

Mud Island, as we affectionately refer to England, proved to be harder to crack than initially thought. As I was so young, with no work experience, I really struggled to find a job. My housemates, all having arrived at the same time did not fare much better. We were all doing various odd temping jobs bringing in enough to pay the bills but not much more.

Our one housemate, S, used to work extremely odd hours. Sleeping all day, working all night. To my naïve mind this was nothing so abnormal.. I mean, this is London. One fine day my other sharer ‘A’ turned to me and said… ‘you know she is a prossie don’t you?’. Truthfully, I did not. It never occurred to me that someone I had been friends with in Zimbabwe would turn out to be a street walker! A went on to explain that she had been offered a room by one of her punters for no rent ‘merely a blowjob a week’! Hmmm.

Anyway, about this time I had to go home for my brother’s wedding. I had only been in the UK about two months and landed in sunny Zim in a bit of a state. One my first evening home with my parents and brother I explained that I was broke and couldn’t get work.

My brother looked at me and said ‘How have you managed to spend all your money’, at which stage I burst into tears and said …

“I’m living with a prostitute!”

I am glad to say things have vastly improved since then!!

Let it SNOW!

This weekend it snowed like it has not done for almost 20 years in London. I love snow, it is the one type of winter weather that brings people together. It is not like rain that can be just miserable, or wind that howls about you making you feel the dead are about to rise and conquer. No. When it snows it seems time has stopped, everything goes still and silent while soft flakes turn the whole world into a magical wonderland.

My sister stayed the weekend, she planned on going home Sunday night but was persuaded not to bother as it was already quite late. The weather had been really chilly then on Sunday the first snowflakes arrived. As darkness fell things picked up, huge flurries making the night look like icing sugar sprinkled from above. We were like kids, T & I were running up and down the street with our tongues out trying to catch the snow (Americo pretended not to know us!). Snow balls were rolled and thrown amongst many gleeful giggles.

That night we all went to bed with the curtains open, watching the snow fall. As we never really get much snow in London it was such a novelty which we were sure would all be gone by dawn. To our immense surprise and pleasure it was still snowing come the morning. Americo left extra early, predicting road chaos, whilst T & I had a quick ciggy in the snow before I left for work too.

Never has the walk to the bus stop been so much fun! Crunch, crunch, CRUNCH!! Large swathes of untouched whiteness with me, the first person to explore this new and exciting world. Sadly the busses had ALL been cancelled, on any other commuter day this would be the biggest pain in the ar*se, however nothing seems so bad in this new world. I started the hour long slog towards the station however after almost falling on my bottom decided to call the boss who, pleasure of pleasures, said to stay home, London transport systems were broken.

And so began our wonderful ‘snow day’, T & I popped into the shop for supplies, went home and proceed to play cards and ‘snow scrabble’ interspersed with a soirée into the snow fight street wars outside. .

Let it snow, let it snow… let it snow!!