Facebook’s full of wintery scenes. It seems like snow’s fallen up and down the country, but not here in London where everything’s just a watery mess. As I opened my blind this morning my tics predictably passed comment:
“Morning sky, you’ve kept the frozen particles in your pants again then?”
“No snow lamp-post, you’ll have to make do with pigeon shit.”
“Hello patio, you’d look more beguiling in beige.”
“Oh snow, another disappointing no-show.”
“Snow, you’re more elusive than a zebra with a monocle.”
I’ve been desperate for a snowy day ever since I first got my all-terrain wheelchair over two years ago. I’m still waiting.