The Snowpocalypse is upo…it’s gone

We’ve officially had our first failed Snowpocalypse of the year, the whole of the UK was warned about the impeding doom from some cold water in the sky, and it sends everyone into a tizzy. We start to panic at the mere mention of a flutter, and start to prepare our survival bunkers.

One flake is enough to send the shivers through a Brit, murmurs and rumours of “is there enough food” spread and settle more heavily than the frozen precipitation. We have had some light snow, and it is the end of civilisation. Needless to say the country’s reaction is the same as it is every year.

Snow follows a simple pattern over here:

Snow day -2: Panic sets in about the weather from Siberia, this leads to many furrowed brows about whether there is enough grit and salt for the roads and whether the infrastructure of a First World country will be able to cope.

Snow day -1 (Morning): Snow is forecast for the next day and thousands of employees start reading their contracts to check what the policy is for staying at home in bed while claiming the driveway is experiencing 5 foot snow drifts. Hundreds of road gritters set off out to cover the country in a thin layer of salt and sand like the world’s worst man-made beach. Shops run out of bread and water because people are idiots…they should be stockpiling bacon and Soreen malt loaf.

Snow day -1 (Evening): New reports start to hypothesise about the destruction the impending Snowmaggedon will bring because without news you turn straight to made-up-worse-case-scenario-panic. Children everywhere go to bed dreaming of snowflakes and snowmen, while parents try to remember if they bought a snow shovel last winter or not.

Snow day: Nothing has happened, a slight dusting over high ground but that’s about it. Schools remain open, and a light drizzling rain is washing away the grit on the road. Once the disappointment has passed the blame game can start. Many look to the weathermen who only forecast the possibility of snow, while others complain it is typical of the government to panic. The media who whipped everyone into a frenzy in the first place help the public with this witch hunt. Meanwhile boogie is blamed by the sunshine, moonlight and good times. At home a lot of toast is eaten.

Snow day +1 (morning): Still no snow and millions head back to work and school putting away the sledges and snow shoes.

Snow day +1 (afternoon): THE SNOWPOCALYPSE IS HERE, as over half an inch of frozen water falls from the sky and Britain collapses like a high-street company. The roads are in-traversable and everyone turns into Bambi on Ice. Trains are unable to run as it is the wrong kind of snow on the line, and schools everywhere start closing despite the children being unable to get home. The Mayan gods look on and hand the end of the world over to the Norse, so they can complete Ragnorak. Time is altered as journeys that previously took an hour turn into days.

Snow Day +1 (evening): For those who have not ended up like Scott of the Antarctic, the return home means a cup of tea and shovelling snow from the drive in the vain hope that you will be able to get out to work tomorrow.

Snow Day +2: The snow is gone, every last track of it. All that hard work to clean it away, and it just vanishes. Everyone promises not to over-react next time and realise that basically snow is ephemeral as a hot summer bank holiday.