Can someone please tell me why, on any of god's great nine planets, when it snows, people have to turn into blithering idiots.
Now I am sitting here perfectly happily on my comfortable armchair in a warm house watching Carol Vordeman talking about why we should switch to First Plus. And I am not complaining that I am here and not sitting on a questionably sticky plastic chair at a table with a questionably sticky underbelly, listening to a balding old teacher talking about why limewater turns cloudy when subjected to carbon dioxide.
But this morning we switched on the radio to find out how many other schools were closed in the county, and Michelle somebody was saying that the government had issued a severe weather warning. And the DJs were saying how horrible the snow is. And how the top speed on the whole of the M1 this morning is 15mph.

Now I know nothing about politics and I know nothing about the person who runs the department that has the power to issue 'severe weather' warnings. But I can guess that he is a man who should have retired a long time ago. His name must be Clive or Kevin, and he wears green and red zig-zagged v-necks over a navy shirt. He wears a hearing aid - but not the new small ones - they are too loud and high tech and 'will break' all the time. Instead he wears the 1950s ones that make him look like a spy with a communication device that links back to the Russian Embassy in his ear. He wears grey and white pin-striped trousers with a brown belt and his shoes have soft sleeves inside covering the souls.
He lives in a bungalow in Cheshire with his partially deaf and partially sited wife - Janet - and he drives a Daewoo Matiz to the post office every Saturday morning. He NEVER drives to work as he doesn't move out of 2nd and is scared when lorries overtake him on the M17.
So his eldest son - Barty - drives him in every Monday morning, he gets home early Monday afternoon and that's his work done for the week.
He does his job by talking to a man who knows a lady who knows the BBC weather woman who doesn't wear a bra, and gets the latest weather updates from her. So when she says snow will be here on Thursday, he jumps in delight and issues one of his 'severe weather warnings'. He does not believe it is 'severe', as back in his day there was 6ft of snowfall in an hour. He only issues his warnings for two reasons - 1. He wants to keep his job as he didn't pay towards his pension earlier in his life, and 2. he won't need Bartholemew to pick him up, he can borrow one of Gordon's Jags and drive home, with no need to fear lorries going fast and him crashing when he goes over 28mph because the max speed will be15, give or take 5mph.
Look people, this man is cenile. This means he has Meals on Wheels and a pleasant young lady who calls him 'Mr S' visits him every Tuesday to make his bed and top up his medication.