Tag Archives: snow

Teenagers. ‘Nuff Said.

manhatttanThe Teenager is off to New York in 9 days for a school trip, so he needs warm clothes.

Sounds easy, but this is the same Teenager who refuses to wear jumpers (too naff), hats (yeah, right) or gloves (I’m not, like, a kid).

So our weekend shopping trip to town was meticulously planned and of course fell spectacularly apart.

‘It’s cold in New York, you need warm clothes.’

‘Is it colder than Glasgow?’


‘S’ok. T-shirts will be fine.’

‘Get dressed, we’re leaving in five minutes.’

Thump, thump, strop around upstairs, sound of clothes being flung around the room.

‘Right, I’m, like, ready.’

I look round. ‘Get back upstairs this instant and take those shorts off. It’s minus 2 outside.’

Grunts, strops, thumping back upstairs. Comes slouching back down in trousers (and a t-shirt) and magnanimously agrees to get in the car.

Town. Seventy shops later, my nerves are frayed and I’m on the verge of yelling in public. Shop seventy-one and I yelled. ‘There’s nothing wrong with the zip. The only thing that’s wrong is that you’re stropping and trying to do it up with one hand.’ A small crowd gathered, pretending to look at the Bermuda shorts nearby, earwigging.

‘Ok. Okkkkaaaaaay, I’ll take it.’

So we got the jacket. Eventually. Only two jumpers to go. Hours later, I took them up to the desk, where a chirpy young man bagged them up.

‘And how are you enjoying this lovely day, madam?’

‘Oh, wonderful, thank you. I adore shopping with my sullen, sulky son. In fact, I wish I did it more often.’

He looked scared and glanced surreptitiously under the counter where there was no doubt a panic button.

On the way back to the car, I had to stop to get some stuff in for dinner and made the mistake of asking The Teenager what he fancied.



‘Small one?’


Fine. I’m going to wait in the car. Keys?’

I waved him off and took  my time schlepping around the Tesco Metro, admiring the plastic tubs of ready-peeled kiwi fruit and chopped coconut. My phone went.

‘Can’t open the boot.’

‘Just press the button on the key fob.’

‘Can’t. It’s disappeared.’

‘What, the car or the key?’

‘The button to open the boot.’

I ended the call.

He’s having salmon for dinner. With broccoli.

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Not Such a Clever Idea….

Ok, who suggested I should take some ski poles and go out walking in the white stuff?? And it all started so well. At 7am yesterday morning I was doing a little jig in the snow outside my house, the cat glaring at me accusingly from the window. Gloves, hooded jacket and ski poles were primed and ready to go, so I had a bit of a quick trial run, eventually deciding I looked less like a weirdo with just the one.

The Teenager was busy messaging his friends while I got myself loaded up. Keys, check. Mobile, check. Wallet, check. Huge ruck-sack, check. Emergency ration biscuits. Only joking. I headed off, feeling a bit silly with the ski pole, especially when someone yelled, ‘oi, you lost one!’ at me from the other side of the road. So far so good though.

I trekked up to the shops, feeling intrepid and adventurous and soon got into a semi-comfortable stride. Any foot drop I had was hidden by the snow. I got to the supermarket, but snowpocalypse had already struck. There was no bread, no potatoes, not much meat and hardly any fruit left. The shelves had been stripped bare. I picked up some grotty mushrooms, half-price bacon, Monster Munch crisps and a tub of double cream (no idea why, seemed a good idea).

After a quick coffee pit-stop, I trekked up the hill to my mum’s with a newspaper, another coffee, then over to Tom, the elderly guy I check in on. Stopped for a tea and a chat, then trekked back up to the shops to meet a friend for coffee, eventually getting home four hours after I set off. My cheeks were ablaze with redness, I felt exhilarated and generally rather fab. Until I took my welly boots off and crumpled in a heap in the hall.

Excruciating cramp in my legs, a sore hand from gripping my ski pole and a huge wave of tiredness sent me straight to my sofa. My legs and feet are still tingling and buzzing. Think I got a bit carried away. Note to self – perhaps take it a bit easier in the snow next time…

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Snow Joke…

It’s finally here. The white stuff is falling from the sky and there’s a lot of it. The Teenager is flapping around trying to find his gloves so he can make snowballs and I doubt school will be open today.

Last week when the promised snow failed to materialise, he was nonchalant. ‘Don’t care. Too old for snowballs anyway. D’uh. Snow’s for kids.’ Hmm. That’s why he rushed to the window every morning and turned away each time with a sad little face.

The news is on and this is obviously a national crisis. Who would’ve thought it – snow in Winter? They have cold-looking reporters in padded jackets stationed across the country, sending live and ‘exclusive’ reports from gritting depots, fields of snow and um, gritting depots. My friend texted me yesterday, saying people were panic-buying petrol, there was no bread or milk left in the supermarket and the roads were jammed. Guess we’ll be having Pot Noodles and biscuits for lunch then.

This is pretty bad timing for me though. After seeing the optician, I was all booked in with the MS rapid access clinic, but it was cancelled an hour later due to the forecast snow. So I will use the  time to try out my Nordic walking poles. I’ve already got my wellies ready and a backpack to put my shopping in. I am going to look ridiculously stupid, but no one cares in the snow. Hopefully.

Luckily, I am not back in work til next week so I am going to spend this time sorting out my university books and look over my notes to remind myself how to write an impressive essay. It’s been a while. I have a pot full of brand new pens and highlighters, the printer is full of ink and I even have little sticky notes in four different colours to mark ‘interesting and informative’ points in my books. All I need now is for my rusty brain to click in to gear and I’ll be fine.

So, I’m off to dig out the thermals, check the ski poles and head off to the shops as soon as I’m ready. I may be some time….

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Bring On The Snow….

We are overjoyed in our little household that there may be snow on the way. The Teenager is happy because it could mean a day or two off school. I’m obviously not happy about that, but I love snow. Apart from it looking pretty, I love it because it makes some of MS’s horrible side-effects socially acceptable. Honestly!

Let me explain. I have foot drop. Some days it doesn’t happen (but you’re always waiting for it to) and some days it’s constant. Wandering around the shops is not always an attractive option, It’s more a case of smash and grab a few groceries and head home. But if it snows, we all belong to The Ministry of Silly Walks. Foot drop is hidden when you’re trudging through snow. Everyone is watching where they put their feet, not just me. It’s lovely.

And if I fall over, well, lots of people do in the snow, and at least there should be a soft landing. I also like the suspension of real life and the feeling that we’re in the grip of a national crisis. We start to look out for our neighbours, whoever gets to the shops first buys milk for everyone and we smile as we walk/stumble past other people in the street.

I used to live in a country where it snowed for over half the year. Everyone was pretty blasé about it but I was like a kid at Christmas, ‘ooooh it’s snowing, look!’ ‘Yes, dear, it does that a lot here.’ Snow wasn’t very kind to me back then though. I skidded in my car and ended upside down at the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere. I clambered out and walked home, crying all the way. I wasn’t hurt, just stunned that snow could be so mean.

Then there was the time I was convinced I’d make a great skier. How hard could it be? Answer – very difficult when everyone else in that country was born with skis strapped to their feet. On the nursery slope (called nursery for a very, very good reason), toddlers whizzed past me at electrifying speed pausing only to point at the adult inching painfully forwards, legs akimbo. I called it a day and never went back.

Anyway, I am watching all the weather forecasts, as is The Teenager. Please, please bring snow!!

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