In the Spirit of Honesty

In case any of you are imagining London as a sparkling city - its harsh edges softened by the falling of gentle white snow in the crisp moonlight, its serenity broken only by the sounds of the Salvation Army choir in the far distance and the revelries of children playing the exuberant games of youth in the powder of the snow - I thought I should mention that London is too far in the south of England to ever get a decent snowfall.

Christmas cards and Charles Dickens have a lot to answer for.

The view out my window this afternoon