Firstly, a belated Merry Christmas to you all.
Secondly, as those fortunate enough to dwell in the many areas of Britain that experienced the fabled cultural-meteorological phenomenon will know, this year saw the first real White Christmas that I can remember. And most likely, the only one of my lifetime thus far. Though temperatures have now started to creep back above freezing point, much of the UK actually experienced real, cold, snowy winter weather for nigh on two weeks, and, come Christmas morn, I looked outside and, lo-and-behold, all was carpeted in white.
I have to admit, I didn't venture into the subzero air to fully embrace this glacial benediction on the great day itself, but when on the night of the 23rd my friends and I saw the snow begin to fall (I mean really fall) outside from the bar in which we were quaffing, we reverted to the children that truly everyone is deep down and frolicked, screamed and generally threw snowballs for a few minutes of festive bliss. In the centre of town - beats sophistication any day.
I also am proud to have contributed to quite a large ball of snow, which you can here see me stood upon.
Who would have thought precipitation could be such a source of joy?
