I have caught a Christmas cold and am stuck indoors. It's been quietly snowing outside for the last 2 days, so I probably shouldn't be out anway. I am certain the weather will ruin our Christmas plans and we will end up isolated here on Christmas Day. My fella calls me Cassandra. I call him Sandra Cass (which is Cassandra backwards) because he's eternally optimistic to my pessimist. We drive each other mad.
I get people taking photos outside my house a lot on normal day - I especially like the Japanese tourists who make peace signs with both hands. Today it has felt a bit like living outside Buckingham Palace, with a constant stream of photographers. The picture above was taken from my bedroom window last night. After I had taken it, the street was suddenly full of couples, who decided to go on romantic walks in the snow. When you're in love, temperatures of minus four don't matter.
The grit spreaders didn't arrive until 10.30 this morning, which meant that for 3 hours cars and vans struggled with that hill, sometimes getting completely stuck and having to abandon their vehicles. People would rev their engines, their wheels spinning madly, then get out of their cars and just stand there, dumbly looking at them, unable to decide what to do next. It was a fascinating study of human nature. I was particularly impressed by one good-looking young man who managed to summon a posse of three men to push-start him. The advantages of being attractive - you only have to smile and the world roots you on. Another man was less appealing, and was unable to get passers-by to help him, one old bastard just said "Oh no, I don't think so, thankyou," and hurried on.
I also saw an elderly man fall over on the hill this morning. He picked himself up and continued, although it looked like a nasty fall, and I suspect he was making te best of it. At least if there is nothing good on tv, I can just look out of the window - all human life is there.