So cold tonight. I couldn't sleep, so I took my bike out for a bit of a run - went up round the common and back through the park, and half three on a Sunday night there's no one around, just frost and mist and street lights. I was beautiful out on the common - so quiet, you could almost forget that you were in London, and only my bike lights to cut the mist. Just as I was coming back up from Park Drive we got the first few flakes of snow. Touch wood that it's going to settle - I think it will - there was enough frost to lay the foundations for it.

Do I sound like a kid at Christmas if I admit that I'm going to go to sleep in a bit wishing hard that I wake up to an all white outside? Enough that it muffles everything, and the light gets that unreal tone to it, and we can go have ourselves a proper snowball fight. It's the one thing me and Mark could always agree on when we were kids - the only decent thing to do when it snows it to have a battle royal snowball fight - cut and cover, run and hide, ambush and attack, full out warfare. None of this building forts and picking sides, just every man for himself, and god help the hindmost. Of course most of the time that was me - face first in a snowdrift, or getting ambushed. There was a tree in the neighbours garden, and I think three or four times ... yeah. Bell would wriggle through the fence, and up the trunk like she was a monkey, and then Mark would pelt after me, send me running for my life, and when I came past *whump* - she took a bucket up one time - a *bucket* of slushy icy snow, straight on my head and down my coat and in my boots ... Sisters! To be fair - siblings! Mark was laughing just as loud. Hated it. The being laughed at far more than the being frozen, but it was always me clamouring to be allowed to go out to play when it snowed. Always me launching that first scrabbled together glove full of snow. Mark had pretty much left home by the time I got myself together enough to take my revenge - Bell paid her dues though. We're more or less evenly matched now, I'd guess. Not that it's snowed any time we've both been back at my parents for years now. Never does snow for Christmas, does it?

Snowed for Jenna's birthday one year - she's a Pisces, so middle of February - one of those really cold snaps that people who care about gardens always moan about. I'm not kidding - we were out at Ritzys - this god awful townie club, but the only place open after hours on a Tuesday. We had a grand time anyway - six or seven of us taking the piss, and getting pissed, and generally mucking about.

Come 3 o clock when they chucked us all out, it had gone from freezing to a couple of inches of the white stuff. Oh that was a snowball fight and a half - all the way up Port Street and back to the halls we were scraping up snow off cars and it was Ready Aim. Fall Over. Port Street's a fair gradient, and it was so icy, and we were so drunk, and half blind with the snow still falling. I think Derrick decided to try his hand at setting an avalanche at one point, and I know Bess ended up sliding about 30 metres, arse over tits, back down the hill when she tried to show off, turning pirouettes on someone's garden wall. She was laughing so hard she forgot to get hurt. Eventually we staggered back to the halls and sat there with Bailey's coffee and endless rounds of toast talking till it was time for me and Paul to head off to lectures.
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