Snow Joke... (Sorry) BLIGHTY GOES BONKERS WITH THE WHITE STUFF!

It starts about a month before the first snow flake. When it first appears on the weather forecasts. Something happens to a Briton's brain and we all start to steady decline into snow-induced-insanity.

You may be interested to know we Brits can't cope with snow. We simply cannot. So for all my international readers I thought I would outline what it's like in Britain when the snow comes...

Firstly WE NEVER HAVE ENOUGH SALT. EVER. Considering we only get 3-5 days of this madness every 365, you would think we could have it covered. We don't. We never do. We probably never will. Somehow whatever baboon has been entrusted with the divine title of Chief of Salt Purchasing within our local Councils NEVER orders enough.

Then the temperatures drop and the whole country rushes out to their car with their camera phone to take a picture of their dashboard thermometer reading and post it on Facebook. Yes it's cold. I know, I'm cold too. You're not colder than me, your thermometer reading is not news.

British amateur weather reporting has it's own rules too. What, to a Canadian for example, would be be described as a "smattering", to a Brit is a "blizzard". A "dusting" is a "snowstorm". Also when describing how much snow you've had you ALWAYS round UP to the nearest foot (or four). An inch is a foot. A genuine foot (FOR THE LOVE OF CRUNCHIES!) is about four feet.

With regards to real weather reporting (not Joanne from school on my Facebook weather reporting), nothing angers a Brit more than an incorrect weather report. We forget that weather reports for every other day of the year are generally wrong. In fact most of us probably don't even check the weather reports any other day of the year. But on these 3-5 days of snow we're never off BBC weather or the met office sites and we're POSITIVELY ENRAGED if the report is anything but accurate either way. I don't even know why.

So despite all the anticipation it is not until the snow gets here and we decide to venture out in it that we discover NONE of us own correct snow attire and we go out in the most bizarre outfits imaginable. Cotton pumps that wet through in seconds. Jogging bottoms that are too long and soak up to the knee in moments. Our dad's, boyfriend's or husbands fleeces. Maybe we own a Trespass ski-type jacket. Hats, gloves and scarves. Only NONE of it matches.

Now this point might be more international. Dads, brothers, boyfriends, husbands, uncles... Males of whatever relation LOVE snowball fights. As men mature, generally they grow out of making everything into swords, guns or any other weaponry and playing at a variety of fight genres. But they never EVER grow out of snowball fighting. Ever.

Men love snowball fights so much that you can put money on the man in your life losing himself so much in the hysteria of a snowball fight that he hits someone FAR smaller, weaker and way more vulnerable than themselves much too hard with what can only be described as a ice cannonball. For shame men. For shame.

All Brits forget how to drive when it snows. All of us. You can blame some of it on the salt running out. Regardless of salt density on the roads however you can guarantee they will be gridlocked.

Everyone resents working when it snows. Mostly due to the predictability of my previous point and the roads when we see a snowflake graphic on a weather report we all see the potential for a free day off. Regardless of if you drive to work, work outside or rely on weather conditions in anyway we all see it as our God given right to have a day off if it snows. (I have also experienced, as a former secondary school teacher, ALOT of teacher directed resentment as schools close and snow day envy embitters all.)

That said I love the snow. I love Britain when it snows. It's like this unexpected holiday time where everyone cancels their plans and hunkers down with hot drinks (though be them sans milk) and chills with their nearest and dearest. We all get excited (it's just the men that expel it with a violent theme). We all get out and walk in it, marvel in it, feel EXTRA cosy being out of it and looking at it. And despite some horrendous fashion faux pas' dotting the landscape, everything looks pretty covered in it.

"HELLO SNOWMAN!!!"

Weirdest snowman face ever...

Euna LOVED it...

I must take my macro out. I must take my macro out. I must take my macro out.

My snow attire was no exception to the rule...

Happy snow day! :D