Snow Hope

Snow day. Second day in just as long.
Heaviest snowfall since 1991. Snowmen, snow balls, igloos and sledges. Someone skiied to The Spa to shop.
Ben is like Jekyll and Hyde. I can't keep up.
Sliding down hill fast.
Spent four hours building a snowman this morning, that looked like it'd been to weight watches. He was six foot tall.
Had to reach up on tiptoes to put his hat on.
"Not sure it qualifies." Says Dave next door.
Little bit of snow and we're all experts.
The children had disappeared - neighbours, MSN. Contracted to finish, while they got on with their own things.
"Haven't seen any children building snowmen." The Liverpuddlian Postman observes.
"Only the adults."
Sign of the times.
They haven't a clue what to do with all this white stuff.
Walked round to the shop later and got pelted by a group of year 9s, on the traffic island, with hard hitting snowballs. Maybe they do know.
The cars were hit like scabs, daring to go to work, or venture further than their own driveway.
I'm hoping for something magical.
I expect it.
The snow comes and the world grinds to a halt.
And everything falls into place in the pause.
Ben says he'sthe only one to care about finances. But I'm more optimistic.
I'm thankful for the break before it comes.
I'm confirming it's there - snowboarding it's way to me through the drifts of snow hope.