Over Christmas, I was lamenting our lack of snow. It snowed in Dallas Christmas Day, it had been snowing in Turkey, but not a flake of snow for us here in London - not even really cold enough for it. How can that be?

Last weekend, however, my wish was granted - it finally snowed! And much to my surprise, Londoners were just as clueless about what to do as Texans.

I however, couldn't have been more excited. After sitting at the office all day Friday, watching giant flakes fall outside my window, I came home to snow built up on the sidewalk, our porch and our little backyard. It was so beautiful, snow hides all flaws. And despite the number of people and the unavoidable dirtiness that comes with that in a city like London, the snow remained pristine in a lot of places, as the temperatures kept it nice and frozen, with a fresh layer dusting the surface every morning.

Our backyard before Belle got to it

View of the flats near a Notting Hill Park

While I am not necessarily a fan of the cold (and can picture myself living someday very happily in a place with a tropical climate, perhaps Hawaii), for some reason, the cold that accompanies snow seems almost energising. After a walk to Kensington Gardens, and further south into Kensington to visit a friend on Saturday, we walked back an hour to our toasty flat. Instead of feeling like I was freezing (which I was) it felt brisk and invigorating and Paul couldn't talk me into the bus.

The only mammal more excited than me about the snow and all the weekend going-ons was Belle. She loves walks (of course), but even more so she loves snow, and has miraculously been somewhere it has snowed at least once every winter - she just expects it by now I guess.

After this weekend, she was in definite need of a good bath.

 Snowballs!