We were warned it was coming, but the arrival of the white powder stuff still takes us by surprise and causes chaos. I have one son at home delighted that his school is closed, and another feeling cheated that his classes are still on – as well as the parents evening tonight.

Geoff is particularly anxious, he is hoping to catch a flight to Dubai later today to visit his son and is relying on public transport to take him to Heathrow Airport.

As I write this, my younger son has returned home from school in joyful spirits. Only a handful of teachers turned up and then sent the kids home. So James and his two buddies, aged 14, promptly started walking the five miles back to our Cambridgeshire village. They were given a lift home for the last half of the journey when they were spotted by a friend’s mother. Both his friends mothers are at work and unaware of these changes. Lucky for them, I am working from home today  and can supply bacon sandwiches and hot chocolate throughout the day. There is really no excuse for the school’s poor communication, so many others informed local radio which was our only source of information. 

I expect we will later head for the only rise in the flat Fenland landscape – Cherry Hill, in the shadows of Ely Cathedral, armed with our sledges. It will be heaving with excited, snow loving, grinning kids. It is so amusing to watch them speeding down the hill, some on them on dustbin lids or even bin bags, anything they can lie on and launch themselves from.

So why are our lives turned upside down when it snows? Are we the laughing stock of the world, unable to get to grips with gritting roads and ensuring a weather-proof infrastructure? How has your day been affected by the snow? Will Geoff’s flight take off?