Winter is here. Okay, that statement might sound a tad obvious, but in Britain it means a good deal more. For the last few decades we've had gentle Autumn temperatures, and apart from strong winds for a few weeks, there's very little winter until after Christmas. This year we've had a sharp plunge in temperatures as cold winds from Europe sweep in from the east. For the last two days, grim warnings of snow have been made, which has pleased the doom-mongering weather people as it gives them a chance to display a different warning triangle.

As I popped down to the library early this evening, I noticed a few flakes of smow drifting in the wind. It was all a bit odd seeing as there was hardly any clouds in the sky. I passed a young couple beside the busy town center road junction and the girl stopped her partner and said "Ooooh... Look at that!"

Her breathless enthusiasm (yes, I looked, I am such a sheep) was about a dusting of snow piled against the side of the road. Just there. Nowhere else. It did look surreal, like some sort of advertisement for this years forthcoming snowfall.

What A Nice Lady

I was waiting at the booking screen in the library. This is, unfortunately an occaisonal test of patience, as there's a direct relationship between the number of people queueing to book computers and the time they take to find that special perfect cubicle. Not too suprisingly, it was happening again.

This time the hopelessly confused dunce was a damsel in distress. She was actually older than me, a lively vivacious woman who was desperately trying to figure out how to get the selection she wanted. It was just a shame that I'm a complete dunce at speaking serbo-croat. So we spent a fun five minutes repeating ourselves in ever decreasing circles and enjoying it thoroughly.

Sniff

My noisy neighbour has finally given up and moved out, leaving a bunch of even noisier contractors rebuilding the premises from early morning to well into the evening. Nothing I can do about that I guess, but last night after they'd gone home it was like sniffing glue with the fumes of noxious paint and adhesives seeping through the floorboards. So bad was it that I had to keep the windows open to prevent suffocation, and in the freezing temperatures in the middle of the night, it wasn't funny.

That's me under the piles of duvets and warm clothing. Sniff.

Job Search Success of the Week

It's a repetitive, soulless existence, forever filling out forms and sending optomistic appeals to employers to throw caution to the winds and hire someone like. Imagine my suprise then when an employer phoned me. As luck would have it, as always happens in moments of significant communication, I was up to my neck in bath water and missed the call completely (trust me, hot water is really lovely right now)

When I phoned them back it was a private college who said (and I almost quote) that I meet their criteria and don't need to be interviewed. Erm.. Okay... But I still need to turn up and discuss whether I exist and have a criminal record.

Why do I get the sinking feeling that I'm this years chosen victim at St Trinians?

Rage of the Machine

Go for it lads. Killing In The Name Of Real Music. Sorry Simon, but you didn't gatecrash my Christmas bash last year so I don't care if your ordered and monopolised little world is running into competition. Besides, your trousers are pulled higher than mine and that is soooo last year.

A Bit More Tagged On The End

Oooh, hang on a moment, don't go away... Keep on reading. Swindon just gets better and better. I saw some policemen the other day. Three of them patrolling together. You know you're in trouble when policemen go around in three's. I don't think they'll get into any trouble though, because I also saw a cheeky chap giving them a friendly wave. Sadly though not all criminals are so sociable. After all the hassle and mounting crime they've had to reopen the police stations in town, but only on three days a week, so criminals don't get too frustrated.

On the other hand now Swindon's been twinned with Disneyland in Florida (that is not a joke... Oh hang on though...) perhaps we could open a theme park here.

Swindonland. I can see it now... Oh. I see they have... Right out the window to my right...

Stop Press!!!

Today I discovered what was going on with the odd flurry of snow. Looking out the window to my right I see a snow making machine on the roof of IS= bar, just across the road. There it goes, a stream of snowflakes from a what looks like a gun barrel perched precariously on the roof.

What on earth is it for? We've got snowfall drifting across Britain already. Kent is knee deep in the stuff (or so the alarmist news reports suggest) already. It's only a matter of time before we get a flurry or two here. So far, all the snow machine has achieved is several bemused pedestrians and a minor road accident.