Back to the Winter

The first snow fell the other day, signifying (at least in my mind) that start of a new winter.  Quite why snow coming does this for me, I'm not too sure, as it never actually fell much in the UK to start off winters there.

So far its just a slight smattering of snow, lame snow that only wants to stick to cars and has a distinct oversion to staying on the ground (unless that ground is road works, they put a special coating on their equipment so that they have an excuse to leave everything for the entire winter).  Nothing that has gotten in the way of traversing the city.  Nothing as bad as it was last year when there was a permenant 2 inch thick layer of ice coating 95% of all walking surfaces.

I've heard its going to get just as bad this year.  But that isn't such a big deal, I'm going to buy some boots, problem solved.  What I'm not looking forward to is the chorus of whinge that will be hurled by most other human beings.

I know I've writen about it before, but it still bugs me.  I get that complaining sooths the soul, its cathartic and nice for the most part.  But the constant, endless, incesant whine I don't quite get.  Surely people are just making themselves more misserable with the bitterness?  If you walk around insisting that everything is shite and its going to be for the next 5 months, surely you're going to have a bit of a wanker time of it?  Shouldn't you just enjoy the fact that you can now wear hats (in summertime, one can't look as dashing as this)

Scarfs are all around, big coats etc.  A whole new wardrobe to wear!  Maybe its that people don't understand the basic principles of dressing themselves.  That the more layers of clothing you put on, the less you feel the cold.  It sounds simple enough, but judging by how cold people get when outside, they musn't be able to fathom it.

Plus, when its now, there are christmas markets to be raided.  The first of which was done last night.

Lots of walking around, looking at the (mostly) pap that people are selling, sniffing food that smells like its only fit for a dog (and seeing happy humans scoffing it down like rabbid wolves) and drinking lots of gluhwine (yum).  Last nights treat was a little bratapfel, cooking apple for those not deutchly gifted, most tasty indeed.  Even if it did smell of wet dog (yes, there was quite a dog theme going on in the nose).  And witnessing what passed for a hot chocolate in such surroundings (a bottle of chocolate milk that had been heated in a drab grey barrel).  I did get a nice cup from it though, and I don't even care how chintzy or lame it is.

But, again, its another year where I'll have to live with the fact that I'm one of the few people actually enjoying the cold and snowy fun.


PS. If you're going to put up an English sign, at least learn how to speak good England first.