A slightly backdated post..but this is how the first snow experience of the year was...
At last. Snow! It was so exciting to peep out the window this morning and see a decent layer of snow on the ground, the rooftops, the cars, the trees etc... It kinda makes putting up with winter over here worthwhile. Sorry, I don't have any of my own pics, as I was running late and had to race out the door to catch the train to work for my 9.00am meeting that I was meant to be hosting.
So I put the trainers on and scooted out the door..hit the ice...and...almost went for a spill..great.. the vision of being splattered on the pavement went through my mind. Not more damage to my already badly sprained wrist...yikes!
Of course, any sign of deviation in weather patterns in this country means the transport system goes haywire. A business man arriving at Luton airport from Slovenia pointed out that other European countries have several feet of snow and their transport system manages to run ok...why is that everything crumbles to a halt in the UK? It's not like it's the first time they've experienced these weather conditions...Go figure.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Thursday, January 11, 2007
twas the mayhem before christmas...
Happy New Year... and all that business. Like most of you I'm back at work now and feels like an eternity since I had a Christmas/ New Year break.
To back track a little bit prior to Christmas, I was sooooo looking forward to my break. Work was unbelievably hectic and I think it's about 10 times worse since I came back in 2007. I was coming down with every 'flu under the sun...errrr...grey gloomy skies of London....Dirty, filthy travellers...should be banned...Plus my sprained wrist which was adding to my misery...awwww....poor me....
Anyway! I had to take an enforced holiday prior to Christmas or I'd lose my hols. They don't roll them over. Boo....!!!! So I dragged my friend from Oz out the door (her first English Christmas, just after she'd been travelling in Spain), prepared for battle and we braved the marauding crowds on Oxford Street....
A couple of times we were forced to retreat (at the nearest pub with mulled wine and mince pies) before we reconsidered our plan of attack and ventured out boldly once more.
Victory was ours! Hommage to the Dodi and Di shrine at Harrods paid off. The gods of consumerism were on our side and 6 hours later, battle weary but triumphant, we marched in the front door laden down with our spoils of battle (shopping bags full of Christmas pressies).
But that was not the end of it....oh no!...as we settled in for the evening, intoxicated by our success (and a couple more bottles of wine) we knew another day and a greater battle loomed ahead of us...Getting up early, with a hangover, going to the physio, picking up the hire car and then...Yes. The greatest battle field of them all.... the supermarket carpark and the armies of trolleys. Rolling around like tanks, crushing anyone in their paths. Mothers. Fearsome and crazed warriors..and more terrifying..their offspring...the embodiment of hell...Orks!
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrggggggghhhh!
Gnashing of teeth, clashing of trollies
It's Christmas time...they're getting their jollies..
Scratching, biting
clawing, fighting
More greenhouse emissions with Christmas lighting.
(I made that up myself!)
And then...trapped in aisle 9 amongst the tinned food as the hordes stock up for the seige...when no shops are open on Christmas Day and the five tins of Heinz tomato soup will obviously be required for survival....a blood curdling scream rips through the supermarket...
'Jason Bluebell Petal Schnuckylumps! Don't you bleedin' give me no more o your lip or you get it. Init? I've 'ad it up to 'ere I 'ave...an' I'm sick o' yer moanin'...init...'
A final check of our trolley. Roasting potatoes. check. Vegies. check. More than enough food to feed all the armies in this supermarket. Check. And more food in case we run out! Check.
Right-y-o! Troops! Reform your battle lines...we're making a break for it. To the checkout! Charge!...ramble down aisle ten, hard turn at the end, avoid the 'spilt liquids' sign, minor collision with the store packer, and hurtle down towards the checkout.Crash! Thud! Ow! ..We've come to an abrupt stop...smashed straight into another tank..err..trolley..Loaded up and up and up into the sky...A shake of the head...an inspection of my body for broken bones and admiration of the bruise on my shin for battle scars incurred.
I look up and ahead to see, to my despair, a long line of trolleys, miles and miles, queuing for the checkout. Lines backed right down to the frozen goods section. The bakery, the deli...sigh...
A half hour later we finally reach the checkout...now licking our wounds and feeling rather sorry for ourselves. But we know the end is in sight... Shit, they don't accept AMEX. Ummm... can I remember the PIN for my Mastercard? A few attempts. Heart thumping. We're almost there. Don't surrender now....and...We've won! We pack the shopping bags and rush to the car...but just one more hurdle.
The carpark...beep beep...'get outta the way you f'in so and so. Where'd you learn to drive...blah blah blah...go back to your own country...Merry F'in Christmas'
At long last we got back home. Trudged upstairs to the safety of our barracks. And popped open the champas....Shit! I think we forgot something....
...Hope you all had a Merry F'in Christmas too...
To back track a little bit prior to Christmas, I was sooooo looking forward to my break. Work was unbelievably hectic and I think it's about 10 times worse since I came back in 2007. I was coming down with every 'flu under the sun...errrr...grey gloomy skies of London....Dirty, filthy travellers...should be banned...Plus my sprained wrist which was adding to my misery...awwww....poor me....
Anyway! I had to take an enforced holiday prior to Christmas or I'd lose my hols. They don't roll them over. Boo....!!!! So I dragged my friend from Oz out the door (her first English Christmas, just after she'd been travelling in Spain), prepared for battle and we braved the marauding crowds on Oxford Street....
A couple of times we were forced to retreat (at the nearest pub with mulled wine and mince pies) before we reconsidered our plan of attack and ventured out boldly once more.
Victory was ours! Hommage to the Dodi and Di shrine at Harrods paid off. The gods of consumerism were on our side and 6 hours later, battle weary but triumphant, we marched in the front door laden down with our spoils of battle (shopping bags full of Christmas pressies).
But that was not the end of it....oh no!...as we settled in for the evening, intoxicated by our success (and a couple more bottles of wine) we knew another day and a greater battle loomed ahead of us...Getting up early, with a hangover, going to the physio, picking up the hire car and then...Yes. The greatest battle field of them all.... the supermarket carpark and the armies of trolleys. Rolling around like tanks, crushing anyone in their paths. Mothers. Fearsome and crazed warriors..and more terrifying..their offspring...the embodiment of hell...Orks!
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrggggggghhhh!
Gnashing of teeth, clashing of trollies
It's Christmas time...they're getting their jollies..
Scratching, biting
clawing, fighting
More greenhouse emissions with Christmas lighting.
(I made that up myself!)
And then...trapped in aisle 9 amongst the tinned food as the hordes stock up for the seige...when no shops are open on Christmas Day and the five tins of Heinz tomato soup will obviously be required for survival....a blood curdling scream rips through the supermarket...
'Jason Bluebell Petal Schnuckylumps! Don't you bleedin' give me no more o your lip or you get it. Init? I've 'ad it up to 'ere I 'ave...an' I'm sick o' yer moanin'...init...'
A final check of our trolley. Roasting potatoes. check. Vegies. check. More than enough food to feed all the armies in this supermarket. Check. And more food in case we run out! Check.
Right-y-o! Troops! Reform your battle lines...we're making a break for it. To the checkout! Charge!...ramble down aisle ten, hard turn at the end, avoid the 'spilt liquids' sign, minor collision with the store packer, and hurtle down towards the checkout.Crash! Thud! Ow! ..We've come to an abrupt stop...smashed straight into another tank..err..trolley..Loaded up and up and up into the sky...A shake of the head...an inspection of my body for broken bones and admiration of the bruise on my shin for battle scars incurred.
I look up and ahead to see, to my despair, a long line of trolleys, miles and miles, queuing for the checkout. Lines backed right down to the frozen goods section. The bakery, the deli...sigh...
A half hour later we finally reach the checkout...now licking our wounds and feeling rather sorry for ourselves. But we know the end is in sight... Shit, they don't accept AMEX. Ummm... can I remember the PIN for my Mastercard? A few attempts. Heart thumping. We're almost there. Don't surrender now....and...We've won! We pack the shopping bags and rush to the car...but just one more hurdle.
The carpark...beep beep...'get outta the way you f'in so and so. Where'd you learn to drive...blah blah blah...go back to your own country...Merry F'in Christmas'
At long last we got back home. Trudged upstairs to the safety of our barracks. And popped open the champas....Shit! I think we forgot something....
...Hope you all had a Merry F'in Christmas too...
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