Poor old froggy lives outside, in front of the Summer House. It sounds ironic having a Summer House in the UK, but we do actually get more than a few sunny days here in London, so he doesn’t suffer too badly after the end of February. However, this week, he made up for eight months of half decent weather, where a jumper is only mandatory wearing 90% of the time by sitting outside in the sub-zero temperatures and even getting a dusting of snow.
I don’t like snow. I used to, when I first moved over. It was the excitement factor of having it in your own backyard and getting to see snow fall whilst you were all warm and cozy in an office or sitting on the lounge. Those days were pretty exhilarating. A few days after my first snow fall, I discovered what it’s like in London when the snow starts to melt (or turn into frozen grey slush). It’s not fun, it’s cold and it’s usually wet too.
So snow, you can stay in the sky or hang about in posh French and Swiss ski resorts where people are a lot more equipped to deal with you and I promise not to moan about the cold. Deal?