05/01, 22:30 - I look out of the window. Roads and roofs already white.
This morning I learned from the news that my local station was running a rail replacement bus service. When I strolled up there, Mick, the lovely station manager, was announcing that the rail replacement bus had broken down, he couldn't get hold of the depot and had no idea what was happening.
So I got the ordinary bus to Lewisham, where I spent three-quarters of an hour wandering from Platform 3 to Platform 1 and back again as I missed train after train because I simply wasn't aggressive enough to ram myself on board. If other people were that desperate to go to work, I thought, let 'em.
The snow in Bromley is of such perfect crispness that I found I was reflexively making snowballs as I went along, which I then carried for a bit until I found a suitable tree or lamppost to fire them off at.
I passed a group of small children who were throwing puny fistfuls at each other.
"Here, have a real snowball," I said, generously and irresponsibly offering mine to a little chap no higher than my knee.
"Oh my God," he exclaimed solemnly, showing the prize to his friends.
Well satisfied with my handiwork, I sauntered to the bus stop.