When I was growing up as a little country bumpkin, the days that we loved so much were when we had “foggy day schedules”. This essentially meant that a blanket of fog so thick that it was a veritable pea soup would cover the country floors and render it very dangerous for the driver of the big yellow Charlie Brown bus to drive us to school. These days were wonderful. My brother and I would get up, sleep in our eyes and tossled hair, turn on channel 26 (we only had 4 channels) and watch the rolling ticker on the bottom of the screen until our school district would state which level of foggy day we were having. It either meant a few hours delay or if we were really lucky no school at all. Yipee! All day home with Mom and Bob!
Today, a Monday, I awoke to a snow covered London. A winter wonderland the likes of which I have never witnessed anything near in my previous 8 years in Europe. And apart from how blissful it all seemed, it all worked out to be the perfect Monday when I then turned on the television to find that all tubes and busses in London are suspended. Although it is sort of disconcerting that an entire city’s workforce could nearly be shut down due to 6 measley inches of snow, it is still a nice warm feeling not unlike that of foggy day schedules of past.
BTW, I have decided that if I were a terrorist I’d be a snow making terrorist. And I’d bring cities to a grinding halt with my snow making capabilities. Because really, it is much prettier and nicer in the long run.