It snowed today.
I knew it had snowed because at 5.30 in the morning, completely unbidden, Carole opened the curtain, looked out and announced it to anyone who was in the area and previously asleep just moments before.
Which is to say, me.
The reason she had excitedly looked, and felt the need to tell me, is because there was small element of fretting due to the fact that the beast of a car we now own was supposed to be going to the garage for a tincture of buffing on some stuff we spotted when we picked it up.
Except that Carole doesn’t like driving in snow at the best of times.
And definitely doesn’t like driving in snow in a car that she hasn’t driven enough to be entirely happy with anyway – despite it having a lovely traction control button just itching to be used.
The fact that we never really get snow here and the last two times it’s snowed to quite a decent degree hasn’t gone unnoticed either. Apparently, all I need to do is complain about a poor show of weather on the internet and lo, it improves. Cancel Culture, but with a meteorological bent it would seem.
The car’s down for going in next week now.
Which, you know, is fun. As the pesky Beast From The East is due back at the end of this week bringing – according to the highly accurate weather app on my phone – snow ever single day until the end of time. Or at least until the list of days on the app runs out.
So that car is absolutely not going in for a bit of a buff and some paintwork touch-ups next week either.
Still, it’s nice to know it could be getting all those things if the weather was half-decent.
And, from a purely selfish point of view, I’m glad not to be working at the moment too. Because there’s nothing worse than coming out of work after a late game to find that there’s snow everywhere and all the buses have been cancelled and you have to walk part of the way home and negotiate with Carole to try and come out and get you if she can as well.
And I don’t think she’d come out in the Thundertank.