Snowed In

As Michael MacIntyre rather eloquently put it - it's so much better to be snowed in than snowed out.

This is the view from my bedroom window this morning.  The little black blob on the bottom right hand corner is the rear window of my car that will not be going anywhere today, or tomorrow unless this clears.

I can hear Adrian wiping the snow off his feet downstairs having just cleared the driveway although I'm not really sure why because last year the attempt to drive a rear wheel drive car on snow resulted in the need to replace the rear view mirror!

There was quite an active snowballing event going on in Hillside this morning but everyone seems to have gone in to thaw out over their roast beef now.  There is no sign of a snowman yet.

It was with the memory of having been snowed out last winter, in London, and it being every bit as unpleasant as it sounds that led to Mother, Father and I being faced with this rather bleak picture after midnight last night.  The white streaks on the picture are blizzard in action.

The only reason we ventured out in such cold weather at all was having booked months in advance we went to the Old Vic to see Noises Off.  Getting to London without incident (other than the freezing cold) we started the evening with an early dinner at the Waterloo Bar and Kitchen, a lovely meal of goat's cheese tart followed by swordfish with roasted sweet potato.  As we stepped around the corner to the lovely old fashioned theatre it was just starting to snow.  As for the main event of the evening, the play, it was funny and well executed by a talented cast.  It starts of a bit oddly and the first act bodes will until you realise what's going one as the second act starts.

By the time we left the theatre the snow was falling heavily, we slipped along the pavement and managed to secure a taxi to Victoria having abandoned plans to spend the night in Ickenham, wisely as it turns out because although our journey home was not plain sailing we would have been snowed out if we had waited until Sunday morning to attempt the journey.

The train out of Victoria was delayed and when it did get going it kept stopping at every signal.  The train driver seemed to be much more put out about this than the passengers. He kept letting us now that he would get us home as soon as the signaller, who he obliquely indicated was a reprehensible character determined to keep us up late, came to their senses and gave a green light.

Anyway all's well that ends well as the long suffering Adrian got out of his bed to come and collect us from Horsham and we were all safely tucked up in our beds by 1am.