Snowflakes in my hair.

I love snow in the way only someone born in a sunny and humid climate can. I spent most of Saturday looking out the window anxiously, in the manner of a host waiting for an expected guest to arrive for a dinner party.

{I took this from my kitchen window on Saturday night – that’s how excited I was. You get the idea.}

Don’t get me wrong, I’m really not keen on the cold months. But if there is fluffy, or even sludgy, white stuff on the ground, the cold endless grey of London’s Winter doesn’t seem quite so bad.

Hello Mr Snowman.

There’s the Mr at London Fields, clearly not dressed for the cold. No hat, no  gloves, and slip sliding around in his desert boots. I’m just as bad with the shoes, each year when it snows I have a total footwear dilemma.

It has been a very mild Winter so far, and I had convinced myself it would be Spring in no time. Judging by the weather forecast, I think it may be time to fork out for some Hunters…

There really is nothing better on a snowy day than a brisk walk, a trip to the pub with friends, and a snowball fight.

x C