You might call it my own personal way of tracking the onset of global warming, but I've written about snow since we moved the UK a long time ago.
A few snowflakes fell one night in December and melted on hitting the ground. I could've blogged about that; I didn't, and not being bothered to write about half-hearted snowflakes accomplishing nothing is in keeping with tradition too.
Then, apparently, we had more snow last night. Only I didn't get to see it, because I'm battling an epic case of man flu and was fast asleep through the whole thing. There was nothing on the ground this morning, just a thick layer of ice on top of the car.
There are rumours that there'll be more Beasts from the East this year, but until it happens, it's best not to get one's hopes up.