I live at the foot of a very steep hill. This is the view from the top of it. Yes, that is the gherkin and the Emirates stadium. Well-spotted.
Normally this hill is nothing but a slight annoyance when carrying heavy bags* of shopping. But today it was the setting for my morning dalliance with death!
A sudden and heavy flurry of snow occurred as I was wending my weary way (my first mistake)to the bus stop. I got on my usual double-decker bus (my second mistake) and suddenly realised that the route up the hill was, essentially, a skating rink covered in a downy-white film of snow. We got about two thirds of the way up. The bus started making funny grinding noises. Passengers began expressing concern. Then we started sliding BACKWARDS down the hill. I sobbed silently into my scarf - hoping that nobody would see me. After a few minutes of sliding and accelerating the bus driver managed to pull over and off-loaded us all before turning off the lights and calling in that he was 'stuck'. A bus on the other side of the hill, coming in the opposite direction, had done the same.
I called the Headteacher and related the incident to him, and his response was simply 'go home'. Now, I'm a good girl who always does as she's told, so I stomped back down the hill. When I got home I resembled a snow-covered yeti.
Death was, perhaps, a long way off. But I was genuinely afraid this morning. Luckily I have had a whole day off work to get over it, eating buns from Sainsbury's.
*I keep making really weird typos like 'backs' instead of 'bags', perhaps I am going the way of Terry Pratchett, sans rubbish books