The Day Two Days Before The Day Before Tomorrow...

Are we headed for an apocalypse?

I only ask, because this morning when I headed out for a run through Hyde Park (well I say run, I really mean tear hell for leather, arms and legs flailing in directions anatomy would declare impossible for about 50 metres, collapsing in a trembling, nauseous heap on the grass and remaining there until I realize I am lying in a pile of pigeon shite, repeating until home again) it was raining hailstones and I could see my breath in front of me. I had an appointment for a haircut, so I figured I'd go there and straight home again. But in the time it took for the hairdresser to shape my locks into something lively and spectacular, the sun had come out, so off I headed to frighten the tourists peering at Kensington Palace and wondering if Diana is home. Hot sunshine it turned out, take my jumper off and tie it round my waist hot - and even then, when I collapsed, I was a trembling nauseous sweating heap.

Now I am home, despite the bright blue sky and white clouds, I just saw a handful of snow flutter to the ground, and heard a single thunderclap.
In all fairness, I do live directly underneath the Heathrow flight path, so it could have been a noisy jumbo jet - but it definitely sounded like thunder.

I had another blog planned for today, if we are all still here tomorrow I will write it then…