I loves a bit of drama, me.

So this this coming

snow

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So I did this

snow food

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And this

snow drink

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(And don’t even get me started on the freezer)

I like stockpiling food. I bloody love it! If I am honest, I BLOODY LOVE THE DRAMA! Can’t help it.

News of ridiculously high numbers of norovirus victims over the Christmas period?

“It might be the beginning of “Rage” and “The Infected”, Smudge. A government cover up…”

*wiggles eyebrows*

The High Speed Rail line being approved, demolishing family homes and hundreds of miles of beautiful green belt countryside, even though it will only increase travel between London and Birmingham by 20 minutes?

“A cover up. By the Government, Smudge. They know something we don’t. Probably about an apocalypse, starting in London. With ‘The Infected’, no doubt”

*shifty eyes*

I love the drama of a heavy snow forecast! It’s exciting! Of course when the inevitable day comes that I am in my house surrounded by The Infected who are being tormented by Rage, in the green belt (wishing I did indeed have a high speed train to Birmingham) and munching on cold, uncooked beans because my gas was turned off as a result of the apocalypse, freezing cold because of the end-of-the-world snow blizzard, I may not love the drama so much…but for now, warm in my Cath Kidtson PJ’s and sipping an Oyster Bay? I bloody LOVES it.

Boooooo to the “You won’t starve for God’s sake!” updates and tweets. I know that. I have a Co-Op at the end of the road and I live on a cul-de-sac with other panic buyers. I’m not thick. I’m not mental. I JUST LOVE THE DRAMA!

Boooooo to the “Why does everything shut down when it snows in the UK?”. Because we are BRITISH. And it’s all a LIE. We survived the Blitz for Gawd’s sake! We just want a Snow Day. And we LOVE THE DRAMA!

Boooooo to the “My kids are driving me crazy at home and I need them in school!” updates. I DON’T CARE! *points at self*. I am at a Stay at Home Mum. I want a snow day! Snow means my husband can’t get the car off the drive to go to work and so gets to play with us all day in the snow making snowmen and snow angels. Plus, it is a good excuse to have a hot toddy at 4pm. And I BLOODY LOVE THE DRAMA of having a car stuck on the drive. Stuck on the drive?! In suburbia? Yep. LOVE. IT.

And to highlight “My love of the drama and snow”, here is a little story…

Britain had been barren of snow for about 20 years. Yes, a dandruff flurry here, a smingey scattering there, but not much really in the great scheme of things. Then all of a sudden, one Christmas, out of nowhere, it was like God himself was celebrating his kids 2008th birthday, and was perhaps having his 8th G&T and went, “sod it, let there be snow”. And there was. A whole load of chilly icey stuff fell from the heavens and went DOLLOP! All. Over. The British. Land.

It came from nowhere.

That was 4 years ago and I remember vividly because it was Ed’s first Christmas. I also remember it vividly every time I see a paper cup. And here is why.

We lived on a main road, one which fed in and out of town and was a major thoroughfare. I looked outside my window at 6pm and it was blizzarding and the traffic was at a complete standstill. It was gridlocked. People were not even honking horns anymore at each other. A giant steel caterpillar of defeat. And a chilly one at that.

Oh my god. I thought. They need help. It is freezing! It is below freezing! It is -6 degrees and people are probably running out of fuel! Probably freezing to death in their tiny financed steel tombs. The last thing they will ever hear is Scott Mills phoning a chinese takeway and putting them on the phone to another chinese takeway! Those poor buggers, I thought. Those people need me!

And I started boiling the kettle.

My plan was so simple – cold people need warming up. I wasn’t going to invite them in to my house to do so. I wasn’t an idiot. They could be chilly rapists or chilly robbers. Plus, the RAC had clearly said on their website “stay with your cars, traffic will be moved”. Duh. But I would do a Reddy Brek and warm them from the inside. I would be incredibly British and give them tea.

But, I thought, I can’t give them my china cups. I might never see them again (because they will all, of course, inevitably survive and drive off when the traffic clears and go to their homes in about an hour). I would never see my John Lewis bone china wedding cups again. What to do, what to do…

No. Best give them paper cups.

I scoured the house for paper cups.

And found three.

“That’ll do!” I thought. I will just pick my favourite 3 cars and deliver them a hot, warming drink and they will love me and years later they will retell this snowy, stormy night and Isla Fisher will play me in a movie.

The first ungrateful bastard of a car REJECTS me. I tap on his window, holding the scorching cup of tea as it burns through my woolly gloves. Tap tap! Tap tap! He looked at me like I was a looting, mental, pervert.

I wave and mime like a deaf mute…

“Hello!”

He scowled. Pressed the central locking button.

I pointed at the paper cup and mouthed

“Do you want this tea?”

And I beamed at him.

He scowled again.

“No.” He mouthed back like a fellow deaf mute, shaking his head.

I beamed again (he must have brain freeze, I thought) and grinned, shoving my paper cup up against his car window.

“Take it!” I mouthed.

His eyes got big.

“No”. He mouthed. And to make sure I got the point, put both his hands up in front of his face and shook them, just to make certain the crazy, ginger stranger with a scalding cup of “who-the-hell-knows-actually-what-is-in-that-cup-it-could-be-anything-including-date-rape-drugs” got his point.

In retrospect – sensible. I could have been anyone.

Ungrateful f*cker.

The second lady, restrospectively foolishly because I could have been a crazy, ginger stranger with a scalding cup of “who-the-hell-knows-actually-what-is-in-that-cup-it-could-be-anything-including-date-rape-drugs”, accepted it willingly. And then did up her window. My paper cup was lost forever. I was so glad it wasn’t my John Lewis wedding bone china.

By the time I got to the third cup, traffic was moving and I was just a crazy, ginger lady roaming the snowy streets waving a paper cup of “who the hell knows actually what it could be” about.

And I bloody loved it. Did I mention I like the drama?

 

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10 Responses to I loves a bit of drama, me.

  1. bonniecroft says:

    YEEEHHH I am with you on this one .
    Ed and Alex would have loved the drama here as Rex used his tractor ( the green one Ed ) to tow the milk tanker up the lane all lights flashing , So exciting I had to watch it from the warmth of my bedroom window.
    So its wrap up warm for me and off i go to crunch my way across the fields and if I see any disgarded papaer cups Han i shall think of you Hannah .xxxx

  2. Jaime Oliver says:

    lol your post so make me smile! are you off out with you tea and paper cups when the snow sets in this time?

    • Hannah says:

      I have several left over from the Jubilee (patriotic colours) and some Iggle Piggle ones too. People had better be BLOODY APPRECIATIVE this time.
      x

      • Jaime Oliver says:

        let us know how you get on!! your my hero! i am sat in PJ’s and i am not moving! lol

        • Hannah says:

          I thought a car got abandoned on our lane and I was terribly excited and thrilled…but, turns out, they were just parked. Which was lucky really, because I couldn’t have gone out armed with paper cups. I wasn’t dressed until 1pm. Sat in a fleecy dressing gown. Didn’t even have a bra on. BOOM! x

  3. Sarah says:

    Once more, awesome. I can just picture you. For the record, I would have said no because a) I don’t like tea and b) I worry about strangers. And germs.

    • Hannah says:

      …Was it YOU?!!! Were you stuck on the road out of Wycombe in the 2004 blizzard?! ;-)
      Thanks for reading, my lovely xxx

  4. Lorraine says:

    Several comments…..
    We never used to get snow like that on the Isle of Wight!!! We hadn’t long moved when that happened and I thought, what the feck is this!!!
    You’re too young to stock pile, that’s what our mothers do!!!!
    Driver number 1 was probably not English, nothing to do with you being a mad ginger haired lady trying to give a grown person an Iggle Piggle paper cup!!!
    And I’m absolutely loving your blog!!! I should be doing coursework but this is far more interesting and fun!!!

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