I was awake at 4am the other day thinking about how I would get to work if the forecast 8 inches of snow was correct. Then it dawned on me (not the actual dawn, that's not til 7.30am) that it didn't matter because I could work from home. During the big freeze in the winter of 1963, Britain was a much more industrial nation - factories closed and public services really struggled, although more schools stayed open because most people lived close enough to walk. Now, broadband internet means that a great number of employees can work from home. When it snowed 2 years ago, I walked to work through the snow, 3 miles across the fields. This time, I just turned on my laptop.
The clear division that used to exist between home and work life is no longer there for many people. Some people might relish the idea of working in their pyjamas all the time, but for me there has to be a distinction. My home is my sanctuary.
Over the Christmas break, there was almost an electronic embargo in our house. I barely watched TV, I only turned my laptop on twice and some days I didn't even turn on my mobile phone *hears everyone gasp*. Christmas is usually a time of traditions, of catching up with friends, and of reflection on the year just gone. We didn't send Christmas cards to our friends this year - my partner made a Flash game that let our friends throw snowballs at us dressed as elves popping up from behind presents and the Christmas tree. We hosted it on our own website and sent people the link via a message on Facebook... huh?!
I find it strangely reassuring that my Mum still sends out over 300 Christmas cards with the traditional "letter" so mocked by comedians, even though she's on Facebook. Another friend of mine received an MBE in the New Year Honours list, which I only found out because a mutual friend had seen it in a newspaper (what's that old fashioned thing?) and had written on her Facebook Wall. Then I felt I couldn't offer my congratulations without just copying everyone else!
So anyway, my quiet Christmas spent reading, doing odd jobs around the house and mostly ignoring the outside world was self-imposed; an antidote to the feeling of saturation of social media at the end of a very busy year. I know it's unfashionable to even think it, but I needed a break! If you only saw people at Christmas or other vastly separated times during the year because you lived many miles from each other, it seemed a reasonable excuse for losing touch with people. Now, we lose touch if someone doesn't have a mobile, or we don't know their screen name!
Returning to my snow theme, I visited a well-known supermarket chain on Tuesday evening after work. I had to queue to get into the car park as the stream of motorists panic-buying petrol was blocking the entrance. This was an ominous sign. When I finally got inside, it was as though the whole of Brighton had beaten me to it. There was no bread, no milk, no cheese, no eggs, no poultry, hardly any fruit or vegetables...a fellow bemused shopper shrugged at me and said "it's like Russia innit?". I doubted it, considering the much colder climate Russia is used to, but never having been to Russia I laughed nervously and pushed my trolley off in the other direction in search of beer - fortunately they still had plenty of that!
I know I'm rambling slightly, but human behaviour in the face of even slight adversity fascinates me. The last time we had heavy snow just before Christmas, the university campus where we are based closed all the car parks. The rather grumpy woman on guard at the barrier barked at me "the campus is closed, it's on the website" as if this explained everything. On a day when I had driven to work from an isolated area on a steep slope without any problems and not even thought about the snow, I was supposed to have logged on to a website I would never normally look at before breakfast......what?!
So having ignored her and driven into the car park anyway ("It's at your own risk love!". Yes, yes it is, I am an adult, thank you), I carried on with my day at work. It seems strange that in an era where "visit our website" and "there's an app for that" dominate, we can't organise a more effective system of communication, or systems for forecasting and preventing more of the problems caused by bad weather. I don't mean that robots completely unaffected by treacherous driving conditions should deliver food to individual homes, but it's a good job we knew how to arrange rations properly during WW2! (I'm in danger of sounding like my Dad now).
In theory, we should be better equipped than ever to deal with the worst nature can throw at us (and this isn’t the worst - some Canadians deal with worse than this for 4 months of the year), but instead it seems the only thing we are better equipped to do is complain in an interconnected way! Twitter, Facebook and many other sites are being used to rant at local authorities for not doing anything (they have the power to control the weather you know, but the Councillor in charge missed the meeting to vote on it because he was stuck in the snow). A lot of my friends on Facebook (I actually see some of them sometimes too) are teachers, and have been constantly updating their status including the words "snow day" as often as they can, just to rub it in.
We are all connected, all-powerful tweeting, web-savvy geniuses, but we still can’t cope with snow. Rambling and incoherent blog post? Well, I did write it at 4am, watching the snow fall.
