What else is there to talk about?

On the one hand we’ve got the hundreds and thousands who’ve had their travel plans disrupted or ruined by the discovery (why do we even need to rediscover it, year on year on year?) that we cannot control the weather. One year it’s leaves on the line, or the wrong kind of snow, the next it’s failing to chill the Channel Tunnel enough, so that trains break down as they enter the warmth from sub-zero Kentish temperatures.

Listen folks: we are not God. Some things in life are just outside our control. Ask 95% of the human beings we share the planet with.

I suppose two hundred years ago I might have been wondering (or thundering?) in the pulpit whether this is God’s way of telling people they should stay home and go to church at Christmas?

On the other hand, all the teenagers in church are Facebooking about how much they wish it was snowing here in Oxford, like it was over the county line in Buckinghamshire and further E and SE.

Me, I’d be happy to go without snow just for now. After all the preparation, it would be a shame not to be able to drive the 1.5 miles up the hill tomorrow evening for the Elsfield Carols. Oh yes, we could walk if needs be, but the thought of doing that after dark on an unlit single track road, when people with 4-wheel drives might be getting up there OK, doesn’t appeal.

A snow-free Tuesday would also be good, so we can visit mother-in-law in Dorset. And so it goes. Looks like it’s just a generational thing.

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