And, indeed, it was brighter than most nights, with the houselights abreast on the newfallen snow giving a luster of midday to objects below.
But it wasn't morning, despite their protestations that they had "slept 8 hours" and "all night," though they had never stopped talking about snow and Christmas.
Back in bed they went. Back downstairs we went.
And we sat in the kitchen, eating pickle and cheese, clotted cream and rose jelly, on crackers, with tea, watching the snow pour--yes, "pour," though I don't usually think of snow as pouring--down from the sky. I think we probably watched at least an inch accumulate in the half hour we sat there.
Which made me smile, because tonight at dinner, despite the fact that we were all gravely disappointed that we had not seen any snow yet, all of our clouds were raining snow.*
(*This references the song about "if all the raindrops were lemon drops" etc. We often ask each other "what is your cloud raining?" meaning "what is making you happy right now?")
Last night, London time, I was talking to a friend in Edmonton,Alberta, Canada. Temperature roughly zero (they use Celsius there) but a few days ago it was MINUS 35 which is not so very far from MINUS 40 F, and with the wind chill it was down to the equivalent of minus 50. That is cold.
ReplyDeleteIt has been so cold in northern France that the Channel Tunnel electric trains have got stuck, not just one but SIX left France and prsumably suffered severe condensation in the electrical parts whcih brought them to a very cold stop. See English papers for details.
Carol Service at church this afternoon, M reads lesson about annunciation. Luke 1,v26-35