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Thursday 7 January 2010

More Snow Anyone?

Tuesday evening’s TV news bulletins were full of severe weather warnings for the south, with Milford on Sea right in the centre of the weatherman’s map. Childish as it may seem, I was getting quite excited about seeing snow on the beach. Of course I knew the practical chaos that was coming shouldn’t be looked forward to, but my inner child couldn’t help itself. After watching Celebrity Big Brother, (no I have no idea why I was watching it either) we took to our bed, me excited about the following day’s white vista, & my wife looking for the thickest nightdress she could find.

Personally, I felt that the woolly hat & gloves that followed were unnecessary, but I decided it would be wise to keep my thoughts to myself. Bright & early Wednesday morning I was up & straight to the window to see nothing... absolutely nothing. For some obscure reason the snow gods had missed us out, probably because I didn’t tell my wife how lovely she looked at bedtime. Around nine o’clock I realised my missed compliment was not the issue, as the snow gods started to dump cold white flakes across the village. In around two hours there was no sign that the snow would be stopping, and a few inches of snow now covered the ground. Suddenly, a strange woman appeared from the other room dressed like an Eskimo. It was only when she spoke through her fur hat that I realised that it was my wife dressed ready to take the dogs for a walk. I gave some helpful advice on how to walk in the snow without slipping, and it was fortunate that the scarf wrapped around most of her head muffled what I suspect was not a polite reply. I of course would have joined her, but I had bigger plans – I had to get out to take some photographs.

As I was packing some sandwiches, Kendall mint cake, filling a hip flask & was about to advise the coastguard of my adventure, my Eskimo returned. When she saw my preparations she delightedly assumed I was leaving home, but when she realised I was only going to take some snapshots she coolly asked whether it was about time that the village found a new idiot. I decided to curtail my preparations & risk going out without my provisions or the cover of the coastguard. To be fair I was only going to the seafront fifty metres away, so I reckon I still had a fair chance of survival. A deserted seafront greeted me with a chill wind & a pristine white beach. The snow was so thick that the beach pebbles didn’t even move underfoot, and the beach huts near the Needles Eye Cafe, (which had already been barricaded in by the shifting stones) had snow halfway up the doors. Strangely the front of one of the beach huts had been cleared? The door was closed, so I just imagined an old couple sitting inside on deckchairs, reading the paper & musing on why their neighbours were missing a great day out. On the way back families were now out in force, one group were making a snowman on the beach, with others having snowball fights on the green. Simple pleasures being had by some, as the country around us had ground to a halt. It seemed unfair to return home without a present, however my wife didn’t find the snow I put down her back as funny as I thought she would. As I got up from her swift left hook, the midday news came on & it was obvious that chaos was gripping the nation. I have to say I felt I should feel a little guilty for actually enjoying the snow, but to be honest the guilt wasn’t as big as it could have been.

See the pictures on the ‘Gallery Page’ - www.milfordonsea.org/gallery-mos-today

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