Snow? here? now?
To say that a British spring is a series of cruel teases is to say that orange juice is, well, orange… So with apologies for not avoiding all the cliches, I can report with some disgust that on March bloody 11 we had our FIRST snow of the season. The wind is blowing a north-easterly hooley, and all in all it’s time to bed in, draw the curtains, light a fire, and crack open as many bottles as seem appropriate to the occasion.