14 December 2012
11.01 I brought the bin in. Its wheeled trail has marked the snow, an indicator of life. I feel bad about that. I close the curtains.
10.27 No more snow. But it’s still there. Lying.
10.16 It’s stopped. But there is still snow on the ground. It’s still there.
9.53 Still snowing.
9.40 Yeah, still snowing. Bit bored with it now.
9.30 I awoke yesterday morning to the sight of a dusting of snow – like sprinkled icing sugar attempting to disguise an unsuccessful offering in the Great British Bake-Off. Within literally time the snow had gone, in a timely reminder at this time of year that we too will melt, thaw, and resolve ourselves into a dew prior to decomposing and leaving no trace of our essence. I was distraught. Weepy. Perhaps I had already had my last live-blog of snow of the year. Perhaps the Guardian would never be in a position to bemoan the difficulty that someone that works there would have in getting his or her children to a school round the corner from his or her home, while someone else gave an update about living in the north of England, using words like “parky” to remind readers of the northern demographic. But now. Now it is back. The snow is here again. Outside. As I type. There is snow. A gentle fall. But it has been falling for fifteen minutes now, and the sky is grey. So yes. There is snow outside. The live-blog is activated. December is offering us wintery weather once again.