You do understand the concept of March, don’t you?

Spring has sprung.

Spring has sprung.

Ah yes, March.

The first wafts of Spring. Winter receding into a memory of warm fires and mulled wine. Sunshine. Lambs. Buds on the trees. Thoughts of Summer, the promise of heat.

These are some of the more accepted traits of March.

Unfortunately, Britain appears to have eschewed the classical approach to March with a fresh, edgy look based on howling winds and arse-clenchingly low temperatures.

A bit of my face nearly fell off on the walk to work today. I had to stumble the last 20 yards trying to keep my nose in its normal position after it lost circulation and decided to try and jump ship. I’m genuinely amazed that both of my ears are still here.

It’s also started snowing aggressively. Snow is meant to be a graceful, meandering weather event; if it made a noise it would sound like tinkling glass in slow motion. Pretty.

Today I had to fend off a coordinated attack from what felt like a hail of frozen wasps, angrily buzzing around my head. A bit like the snow had been out all night on Jagerbombs and Stella and was feeling a bit fighty.

This is absolutely unacceptable. I was in the Alps last week. It was 11 degrees. To be honest, I found that a little unusual but I most certainly did not expect to come back home only to crave the sweet, warm embrace of the Aiguille Grive.

I really crave the sweet, warm embrace of the Aiguille Grive.

Around this time of year, I (being, at heart, a man in his mid-sixties) like to start referring to things as ‘mad as a March hare’. Well I can tell you, the March hare is mad this year. He’s absolutely fucking livid. He wants to be out frolicking around, gambolling and doing other things that March hares generally do to indicate the scale of their madness. But he can’t. He’s trapped under four feet of ice in his burrow just outside Chester. The March hare is not just mad, he’s completely livid.

Weather, sort it out. This is ridiculous.

In other news, am I the only one who physically shudders every time I see either Chris Huhne or Vicky Pryce?

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Wait for it…

The mood is tense in Britain tonight as it emerges that snow has fallen and the country is still functioning.

The UK traditionally has a fractious relationship with snow – the two are believed to have become intimate several centuries ago before snow disappeared for much of the early noughties without even leaving a note. Now the annual return of snow is marked by the island nation throwing an absolutely massive tantrum and refusing to move for 6-8 days.

"Oh look. Snow."

“Oh look. Snow.”

Last night however snow arrived in the dead of night, the rat, and has been gently caressing England’s green and pleasant lands for almost 24 hours. Whereas this would normally cause all trains services to instantly terminate just outside Reading and the M25 to turn into a mass game of ‘crash the car’, in 2013 Britain seems to have just, well, got on with it.

Speculation is rife that Britain has not actually noticed that snow is falling – instead believing that the large white flakes falling from the sky re part of a guerrilla marketing campaign by Daz – and that as soon as it clocks on that the wintry cad is here again large swathes of Dorset will immediately explode.

Some optimists believe that this is a new dawn for the UK, and that finally we can all move on from turning into absolute loons the second the first flake lands. Perhaps now we’ll stop stacking it on pavements which aren’t even slippery, perhaps we’ll be able to drive in a straight line without screaming and swerving into the nearest lake. Perhaps the tubes will admit that they’re called the fucking Underground for a reason and don’t need to shut down straight away because snow does not, in fact, have the ground-penetrating powers it is often claimed to possess.

Realistically though, none of that will happen, we’ll all realise it’s actually snowing at some point, and all kinds of incompetent, hilarious hell will break loose.

And that, ladies and gentleman, is why I love this country.

PS: Exercise update. On a high protein diet, or direct quote, “Just eat more mate”. Still haven’t regained full arm function. Second session tomorrow. Help me.