I hate cold. I hate when it arrives every winter equally unannounced. One moment you wake up from the comfort of your life and notice your toes have gone numb and your nose is tingling. I tend to go to the wardrope, looking for anything that could make it go away. Dress in layers they say, so I put on toe socks, and on top of them normal socks, and then woolly socks. I put t-shirt, then thermal shirt, then pullover. Then I get a blanket that only gets used every winder, and wrap myself under it on the sofa. Make endless cups of coffee and wrapped in layers hop to the kitchen to fill up my endlessly emptying recipient. I cranck up the heater, to 24, full blast. Close the doors and curtains. Thats the time when I start to make oven dishes, the kind of that take 4 hours to cook. The type that are unnecessarily complicated and time consuming for any other time of the year. And then park myself next to the oven, thorring my fingers with the roasting beef.

When snow is setting and wind howling, I don’t need to do food shopping. In fact, I don’t really have any need to go outside. Suddenly it is just fine to go without deodorant or toilet paper. Bythe third day it starts to feel like a camping adventure. Still cold, no loo roll left, having eaten only tinned food, and thinking about making a fire in the seating area to heat it up.

I do not go driving in sub zero conditions. Every year when snow falls England enters into a chaos. As snow has never happened before, “who would have known we would get snow this year”, people say. Somehow the onset of white surface makes Brits believe they equal Formula One drivers in skill and matching speed. It’s the famous fairytale of white Christmas morning, sledge rides, happy families with kids and all the other illusions we hold dear. Who would foresee that approaching roundabout at 80 miles an hour and slamming the breaks could cause some sliding and accidents in real life? Thus the traffic conditions resemble handful of skittles in a snow dome. Lots of collisions, fluff and colourful pieces everywhere. People go home in Uber, together with their pizzas, swearing next time they know better to get a taxi. Uber drivers laugh of inexperienced laymen whilst powersliding their Hondas over the speed bumps in utter disdain of ice.

I hate snow. Devils shavings landing on Earth and making us long for the fiery furnaces of beyond. Children screaming of their parents that tell them to leave their ipads to go and build a snowman. Teenagers with their unsuited jeans and one-size-fits-all cloves, endlessly gathering mud streaked flakes, saying this must be so fun. Mom bringing a wrinkly carrot for the nose. Dad watching from inside, smirking for his suffering kids, reminisencing how fun it must have been for him when he was young. We must enjoy snow, because it comes so rarely. Enjoy it like you would enjoy diarrhea. What a relief when its gone, and then you get to tell the story of it, and enjoy telling about it over and over. Because you experienced something extraordinary, that was so different.

I hate ice. Not the kind of ice you put into your drink in Spanish lobby bar, but the kind of ice that surrounds you and makes the ground slippy. Ice that forms on fallen leaves and forms steam when your dog poops on them. I don’t like skating either. If you have a perfectly functioning road next to it, why would you put axe blades on the bottom of your shoes and go “wow look, I can now walk on ice!” Why not just have the normal shoes and walk? Or even better, jump into your car and turn on the seat heater. If something is not broken, why fix it. You would not drill a hole into th base of your rowing boat just because if had no holes in it. You would not attach a toaster on your tv remote just because it has no tosters attached. So why attach axe blades on shoes? It makes no sense. Skating is stupid.

In fact most winter sports are a perfect way to make something uncomfortable even more uncomfortable. One thing is to walk with extended feet and arms. But add cold and attach planks and sticks to your extremities and you get a cold painful walk. Take surfing waves, and replace the sun and sea and daquiris with frozen digits, burning cheeks and stingy alveoli of your lungs, and you have slalom. It is a masochistic way to increase suffering with the excuse of it being good for you.

The only good thing with cold spells is that they rarely last long – unlike the governments lousy decisions that even our grandchidrens kids can complain of. So sitting on my sofa, sipping my hot drinks I can rejoice that soon this weather is less than a memory and we are well on our way to the more enjoyable part of the year, where sun is visible, birds sing and even parlamental decisions may seem little less freezing.