05 February 2007

Winter's shadowy fingers

After the mildest January for 90 years (who counted?), today I am wrapped up in coat and hat: I'd be wearing gloves too, if I didn't want to type. Every breath I exhale produces a cloud of condendation. Yet I am not walking from the car park, or cycling to the station (not that mad), or running or scraping the ice from the car: I am sitting in Coach A.
We remarked that there were many vacant seats in Coach A as the train drew in, and as soon as we boarded it was apparent why. But Didcot commuters are hardy people.
What annoys me is less the discomfort, or the fact that I pay a substantial charge to travel on this train (the ticket price only covers conveyance from A to B, not even a seat, though there's usually one of those to be had), more the loss of this useful time. It's too cold to do any work. Once I've blogged the cold, I'm going to put my gloves on and read something.

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