We got late snow this year, Diary.
I'm not used to late snow any more. In fact, I'm not used to any snow at all. We British citizens all assume that because we've had a rainy summer, that our winter will be exactly the same. Or if it does happen to snow, we think of slush. The stuff that just clogs your drives, not the type to make little snowpeople out of.
Notice how I said 'people' there. I'm not a feminist or anything, but it sort of bugs me how they're always known as snowmen these days. How do we know that all beings made out of snow are men? Just because they were a top hat and are flat chested, that doesn't immediately make them a man, does it? No. So I outright refuse to call them snowmen. They are snowpeople. End of story.
But regardless. We never have snow here. But this year we did. I was surprised actually. We got a whole Antarctic load of snow, as well. Shops were closed, roads blocked. It was manic. The whole city stopped because of fluffy white coldness that fell from the sky one night and hasn't stopped since.
Not that it bothers me. The Christmas period is over so business is always a little slow for the few weeks afterwards. I quite often just close up and spend it with family. So, to be honest, I've just been enjoying the comfort of my blanket. Secretly sniggering at those people flapping around outside because they're life has come to a dramatic halt.
But there's one person who's life actually matters on this occasion.
Dan was supposed to visit his family back in Dublin this week. He couldn't afford to go any sooner because of the high traffic of people going around that time. Christmas is the time of family after all. And seeing as he and Mark are only just earning enough to survive, he had to save up for months just to afford this week. But, of course, the snow said nope. So he's stuck here, refund for his flight in the post, which has also been delayed. And he's less than happy.
I've tried to keep him occupied. His family don't have Skype so he can't talk to them that much apart from telephones. But I have Skype. And since we've been caved into our homes, we've had Skype dates. I've played him a film on my television and pointed the screen that way so that he can see too. We've cooked food at the same time and had a little faux-restaurant scene going on. It's been nice, really.
But he misses his family. I do get that, Diary. I know I could never really replace them. Especially with the traditions they have each winter.
He told me that they go out and make a snowperson. Without fail. Every year, the whole family takes a road trip to the middle of the countryside. It doesn't matter how far away they go. It just has to be a different place each time. And they all go out and make this snowperson. All together. The whole family.
That's really beautiful, isn't it? A family tradition that has gone down through generations every year and will continue to go on for years to come. So I can't even begin to understand how devastated he feels not to be there for it.
So I thought today would try and help him.
I went to rescue him. It took a while. It took a really long time. I had to kick myself a path out of the snow. It was stupid. Three sets of shoes I went through to get out! And then I had to waddle through the city, getting my newly warm shoes wetter and wetter as time went on. And my feet got colder and colder and colder. So by the time I reached his place, I couldn't actually feel my feet any more.
I would have kicked another path to his door, but I couldn't. Trying to walk with numb feet is near impossible so how can you expect me to do anything strenuous? So I had to call him. And get him to...you know...rescue me. Ahem...
