Snow Place Like Home.

So it's the heaviest snowfall for ten thousand years, and the country has ground to a halt. As usual, we get people whining about how they got cold on their way to work, how it was so tough to sit in their warm cars for an extra half hour, or demanding that we invest in more gritting trucks instead of the NHS for the one day a year when it snows. Radios yelp the latest ice-based statistics excitedly, and the newspapers all come up with snow-related puns for their front pages. It's a ridiculous spectacle.

And yet I wouldn't want it any other way. What's the fun in having a country who can cope with everything? In the rest of Europe, snow is no different to rain or high winds for them. They just live through it. But in the UK, it retains that magic that makes a snow day an event worthy of a four page spread in the Guardian. With worldwide media, society seems to be becoming far harder to impress. To retain that childlike wonder is something we should enjoy, and I certainly do.

Still, it'd be even more enjoyable without the stupid gritter truck demands of some people.