The media has itself in a froth about schools in the South of England closing because of a gentle dusting of snow. Being from oop north myself, we'd sit in class, teeth chattering, frost forming on the inside of the windows begging for a snow day. One would be begrudgingly given if the snow topped five feet and the boiler packed up.
And yet I still don't begrudge the sissy sassenachs their snow (frost?) day. It happens rarely enough as it is and a sudden unexpected blast of good fortune is what makes childhood memorable. The children weren't in class learning about the Battle of Agincourt or how many fathoms in a farthingale or somesuch. However, they got important practical demonstrations of projectiles, the Battle of Hastings and pure, unadulterated, not-sponsored-by-Sony-or-Apple FUN! C'mon guys - the kids are alright!!
(and face it, we got a duvet day too, right?)
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