Sunday is a day of rest. Particularly, if you spent the night on the floor of the O2 arena because the Underground has stopped running and girls in heels, who love Olly Murs are panicking all around you. If you are the mother of the person who was stranded at the O2 you probably think Sunday is a day of rest too, as like me, you probably got very little sleep.
But I am not a sensible person. I decided to start a Community Build Project.
The drive needed to be cleared, just in case we had to drive to the O2. Next door had done really well to get his beautifully lowered car home last night but got stuck at the last hurdle and the car was slightly blocking the drive. Our drive is shared between 5 houses.
Enthusiastically, I said, "let's build an igloo". Son was interested. I just wanted the drive cleared. Son's friend joined us to help dig his brother's car out. Although, he grumbled about slave labour he was quite enjoying himself as we filled recycling boxes with snow to make bricks.
After the first few bricks were laid we had been joined by nearly all the neighbours, getting excited about building a real igloo. The snow was perfect, soft, powdery and sticky.
We soon fell into our roles. As the initial designer I continued to make bricks and watch the growing structure. I also got to make the tea for the workers. The long suffering husband, took on his usual workhorse role; not stopping for breath he cleared snow and filled more boxes than most.
Mr K became the foreman, making sure everyone was on task, making sure the bricks sloped in at just the right angle and telling everyone how he hadn't had this much fun since he was a boy (which was a very long time ago).
Mr A looked absolutely shattered but couldn't give up until the igloo was finished. Son and friend were cheerful workers until it got too tall for them and then they lost interest until we started making smaller bricks, with the cartons from the Indian takeaway.
Mrs B lent her shovel but had to go out to dinner. Mrs K came out and took photographs to send to the grandchildren in Australia. Mr S cleared snow until Mrs S and son (who is 18 tomorrow) replaced him. He re-appeared for the final photos. Mrs S was the joker of the group and chief gap filler, when asked for soft snow by Mr K and 18 Tomorrow, she would shout, "incoming!" before throwing a shovelful of snow through the top.
18 Tomorrow, as the tallest and strongest was responsible for laying the big, high, heavy bricks. Mr A's son with the beautifully lowered car joined us when he woke up, which just in time, as the roof was out of reach of nearly all of us, except 18 Tomorrow.
It was a brilliant morning, full of fun laughter and community spirit. Four hours later, we have an 8foot igloo in our front garden, a clear drive, aching muscles and I think 18 Tomorrow might have frostbite on his fingers.
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very clear drive
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It's so large that it's blocking the light into my dining room.
Now, I am going to send an e-mail to the council to request retrospective planning permission
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