Beautiful/dangerous Part II - and a tragic story

OK, so I ventured out a short while ago with my camera to record the momentous snow fall in all its glory. Turns out, though, that if you don't use your camera for a while (and by 'a while' I mean 'about four years') the batteries don't hold their charge too well, so I only got 10 snaps.

But 10 snaps is better than none.

This is a path that runs near Sparky Towers. It was covered in snow.

This is a main road. The pretty white snow had turned to a vile brown mush.

A church near the Thames.

The church yard. Note how I used a snowy ridge in the foreground. That's ARTY.

The River Thames, with Sunbury Lock in the distance. Actually is it Sunbury Lock? I don't know. Could be Walton-Upon-Thames. I could look it up, but what do you think I am - freakin' Google?

Another view of the River Thames. LOOK AT THE PRETTY TREE!

More of the same. Whatever.

A park in Sunbury-Upon-Thames (that's the posh bit of Sunbury - anything with 'Upon-Thames' tacked on its name is by its very definition posh).

Another view of the park. Those lovely houses in the background back onto the Thames, so when global warming causes sea levels to rise they're screwed, quite frankly.

A road called The Avenue. So actually it's an 'avenue,' not a 'road.'

Oh, and I did manage to get a short video clip of some action that took place as I walked back to Sparky Towers.

I wonder what happened to those guys?

Anyway, I promised you a tragic story, didn't I? While walking the streets earlier I kept seeing snowmen in people's front gardens – various kinds of snowmen, I hasten to add; some were very good, although most were hideously deformed - kind of like the Elephant Snowman, if you will. And really, that one I saw near the Thames … well, let me put it this way - the carrot really shouldn't go *there* if you know what I mean. Anyway, seeing all these snowmen brought back a flood of memories and one word in particular. That word was … Snowy … SNOWY … SNOOOOOOWY!

*Ahem*

When I was a kid, y'see, I was as guilty of making deformed snowmen as the kids of today. I cried a lot about my inability to make a decent snowman, but once my tears had thawed and I could open my eyes again I began to plot a new kind of snowman.

That snowman was Snowy.

Snowy was just like any other snowman, but with one major difference: he was only about 30 centimetres tall. He was awesome. So awesome, in fact, that I carried him around with me. So awesome that Big Bro could not help himself from drop-kicking snowy  down the end of the garden.

Poor Snowy…

Fortunately Sparky Ma was on hand to help me rebuild Snowy, like the Bionic Woman: better stronger, and, when we hid him in the shade of a bush, more resistant to melting. It was sad when Snowy did eventually melt though … the last remnant of winter, covered in dirt, shrinking away … it was the longest goodbye, dear reader.

Actually, screw Snowy. I really wish I'd round-housed one of those deformed snowmen I saw earlier; y'know, go totally Matrix on its frosty ass. That would've been so awesome.