Fuck this arctic weather pattern, rendering a coffee outside impossible. Fuck this snow, causing the old and infirm (and occasionally the young and fit - you know who you are) to fall down and strain, sprain or break things; leaving trails of salt all up the stairs; turning to filthy brown slush; balling itself up so that kids can throw it at buses; turning the news into endless pieces to camera by some idiot standing on a bridge over the M1 saying how cold it is in the Yorkshire Dales. Fuck it.
But worst of all are the postponements. The stupid bloody weather has stolen one of the few beacons of joy in the bleak, post-solstice world we find ourselves in by forcing the risk-averse 'managers' (I choose my words carefully) who seem so prevalent in life these days to cancel football matches. There is no justice. As some twat said on the BBC yesterday or one other day in the recent past - 'This is the 21st Century, and people want to know why we can't function normally just because a bit of snow falls'. Comparisons have been made with Novosibirsk, where everything runs smoothly in temperatures of minus 200 and octogenarians skip about in 6 feet of snow carrying 40lb backpacks full of coal. Which they will eat, rather than burn. Personally, I blame Fearne Cotton.
Anyway, as the City site says - somewhat dramatically - tonight's game GOES AHEAD! So, in the absence of any Gooner shite to show, I think I will take a punt that the local might manage to tune into ESPN and hie me down there to watch it.
Then tomorrow, with my injured ankle slowly improving, I will strive to emerge from the shell. If Carol on the weather this morning is to be believed, the temperature should be slowly climbing as we head through the week, so it will be time to put some air in the tyres, tighten the brakes a bit, don the gloves and hat and hit the road. I've had an idea to cycle to the end of each of the tube lines (with the exception of the Heathrow end of the Piccadilly, due to horrendous roads, though I may change my mind on that one, depending how the project goes) starting with the northern end of the Victoria Line. That shouldn't be too arduous from here, and will be a good introduction to the project. I will follow that with the northern end of the Piccadilly and work my way round from there, taking the odd picture and writing a few bits on here. Well, that's the plan anyway.