Winter wonderland

The first snow arrived the other day. About frickin time. Did I just say that ? I guess I've been here too long when I miss the snow. But it's all a matter of perspectives, I think. For the last few weeks it's been a good old fashion New Zealand winter. Cold, wet, and generally yucky. Nothing to write home about. Problem being is that it's about 10 degrees colder than in NZ. So that means ice. Every frickin where. Now, I don't know if there exists some kind of ice walking gene. But, if there is, it's clearly skipped a generation. We've all seen those cutesy videos of ducks slipping and sliding their way across the ice. It's a dream of mine to be that well co-ordinated. Nope, with me, I'm resigned to spending most of my autumn outdoor winter time steering upwards at the stars, with one leg wrapped around the back of my neck. "You can see that I can't walk on ice, stop messing with me already !!" Which is turn explains a few things about Swedes. They all look exactly the same. In Sweden. BUT, take one of those northern Swedes out of Sweden, and watch them walk. Northern Swedes walk everywhere like they are ankle deep in cow poo. Funniest thing that you every saw. Until you happen to be in the north of Sweden come the annual ice age. Then it's the cleverest thing that you ever saw. I've tried, God knows I've tried. I guess that I'm just not an ice guy. Actually, I recall my ex wife saying something very similar. Snow, snow I can do. Snow sits on the ice. It doesn't move. Usually. Snow is kind. Snow knows my limitations. Snow understands. I hope it snows tonight. Even if it ruins the moment of unbridled hilarity exhibited by my colleagues at the bus stop. I'm convinced they are all arriving early now. Just to see my duck arse slide across the road. I hate them.