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We are snowed in

What they say is the biggest snowfall in London area since 1991 produced a phenomenon that we started to forget: Snow that stays on the ground. More of it than I’ve seen in all of my three winters in UK combined so far. As I’m typing this in the morning, the snowflakes are starting to come down again, so who knows… Winter came to these shores.

The buses are not running, nor do the commuter trains on our line. The schools are closed – at least, Becky’s school issued a message that it is; in Kimmy’s case, Natasha made an executive decision that she did not want to drive on these roads. I was planning to work from home anyway. It’s a good old-fashioned snow day!

Natasha and the girls took full advantage of the falling snow in our back garden last night. Made a snowman, of course. His name is King George. I have no idea why.

King George and his court

 

This is what our garden looked like last night.

And another picture of the same, taken without flash. I like how it came out all in sepia tones, even with smudges for moving body parts, as well as for where entire Kimmy was at the start of the shot.

This is what the garden looks like right now.

And this is the front yard view.

After playing in the snow for over an hour, Kimmy informed us that she no longer wanted to move to another house. It has a tiny walled patio instead of a garden; we would not be able to build a snowman there…

Posted in Chronicles

12 Comments

  1. Eric

    I want sno! Can I haz yr sno?

    (No, Eric–Ilya’s snow is in England, which is far, far away, in another country across the ocean–the ocean is like a pond, only really huge, bigger than a hundred ponds put together.)

    Oh.

    ::sad Eric::

  2. Ilya

    It should be noted that I – having been born in Russia and all that – do not particularly like snow. Especially when it involves something as enjoyable as shoveling.

    I lo-o-ove the contemplative nature of snowy landscapes. But once I’m done with contemplating, could someone get rid of all that stuff, pronto?

  3. Sharon

    Really cool pictures. Thanks for that. I immediately thought of you when I saw the front page of BBC News this morning. 🙂

  4. Kim

    Like Sharon above, I thought of you first thing this morning watching the news…the kids did a great job on the snow-people!
    We had a heat wave here yesterday, the temps rose above freezing for the first time in almost 2 months (there was a two day break in Dec. but it was so brief no one is counting it)but today it is back to -11 with wind chills of -20.
    Enjoy the snow!

  5. Vince

    Snow is beautiful – driving in it and shoveling it is not. I avoid both when possible. The shoveling is pretty much no problem, as my landlord does the shoveling and snow blowing.

    And very cool snow people.

  6. Eric

    I read The Lion, The Witch, And The Wardrobe at the perfect age: young enough to buy into fauns, dwarves and talking beavers and too young to pick up on all the heavy, ham-fisted Christian “allegory” (not even subtle enough to deserve the label, actually) that makes Lewis impossible for me these days. Almost any amount of snow flicks a switch in my brain and I’m five again. (Granted, sometimes it’s a five-year-old who’s spiked his hot chocolate–still….)

    In the American South, of course we hardly see the stuff at all. But when I was in college in Boone–high in the Appalachian Mountains–we saw plenty and for a good quarter of the year (it wasn’t unusual for a pile of unmelted snow to last well into Spring), and it was the same thing. There were two routes up to my apartment, directly up Stadium Drive (an insanely inclined street; a few months ago when I was in Boone I drove up it to see if my apartment was still there and was shocked, as the engine strained, that I used to walk it nearly every day) or up through a wooded area behind and over the football stadium. Up in the trees, on a cold dark night with blankets of snow seeming to illuminate the ground between the buried trunks, it wasn’t too hard to imagine coming across Narnian rebels plotting a desperate strike against the White Witch.

    It remains a kind of magic to me, even when it’s only a frosting that doesn’t even quite cover the grass.

  7. Ilya

    I suppose it’s precisely the opposite for me, Eric: I’ve seen enough of the stuff in my childhood that there’s no more magic left, only a feeling of it being a nuisance; and I can only think of early years literature where snow was associated with hardship, occasional delight being completely accidental. Also, I surprisingly cannot think of any exceptional personal memories that are related to snow.

    I went out and played with my kids in the snow for an hour or so. I guess it wasn’t too bad, but they surely had a lot more fun with that than I did.

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