"Let it Snow, Let it Snow!!"

Serves me right for singing in the car the other day. I was househunting again, somewhere to the North of the city, and all in a Yuletide mood and, in addition, in relatively good voice. So having exhausted the carols I moved on to other seasonal oldies - and no sooner had I finished demolishing the high notes at the end of "Let it Snow" when stap me vitals if it flipping well didn't start snowing. And continued snowing. And then snowed some more. Then it cleared up briefly, just in time for some more snow. And sleet. Which is rain that was too lazy to become snow and just sort of froze in a sullen way.

The little humpbacked bridge I cross on the way to work was a sandwich of ice between pavements of snow. The river I live next to is also a strange chilly grey colour, dusted with snow. My duplex is behind the big tree in the picture.

It is very strange and not a little risky walking on these pavements.

Narrow streets mean the buses are whizzing by one's shoulder sometimes with inches to spare. Walking is more like skating, and even my sturdy Sishika shoes (made by brother Brett) are not able to grip properly. Their well-treaded rubber soles do, however, allow me to build up massive static as I walk on the carpets in my office - and I am learning how to "accidentally" discharge this into unsuspecting co-workers..


The little open piece of ground adjacent to my duplex is also a snowdrift. The old man with the dachshund that walks there daily is taking a seasonal break Just as well really, a short dog and tall snow is the kind of sight that brings tears to the eyes. And a localised wince a bit lower down. The swans seem to have gone into hiding as well - and the word is that we can expect a whole lot more snow on Friday. I suspect my New Year will be seen in from the deck out front here, with a jug of wine, maybe a big box of fireworks and an attractive friend. We can giggle and fire rockets at the spire of the cathedral.

I wish you all a fantastic 2006.

Yuletide in East Anglia

Judging by some of the more peevish messages I have received recently, it is time for another edition of the Hogga Blog. Ah well, my readers are my life so once more to the keyboard. And this time it is a somewhat grimy old keyboard at my temporary workstation in the open plan office of my new employer. The first time I have worked in open plan, actually, and in a department composed mostly of female HR consultants.

Yes folks, the Hogga has moved again - this time to the lovely little cathedral city of Norwich. Another first is that I am living within a short walk of the office - well, renting to be more precise while I look for a place to buy. Time to shake the dust of Bracknell from my feet (and leave that strange Lego block house full of immigrant lodgers and bad memories, too many photographs and even now, stray ginger hairs on my old jackets).

This is indeed a pretty place to live. Surrounded by a maze of little country lanes and villages, close to the sea and even closer to the Norfolk Broads which is a sort of wetland and network of canals and lakes. A mix of very old and new, and strangely enough a part fo the world from which some of the Hogga ancestors rose. My maternal grandfather was descended from a very old and very small (in numbers at least) North Norfolk family about which more at a later stage. So a sort of homecoming, although I don't want to place that much significance on what is essentially a lifestyle career move.

My new duplex is on the river Wensum and has views of the cathedral spires. An impressive place and with some amazing interior decoration including the face of the secretive "Green Man" peeping out of some leaves, a hint of the pagan past perhaps. For more on the Green man mythology checkout http://www.btinternet.com/~breinton.morris/WhoistheGreenMan.htman.htm


















Interesting walking to work (and dangerous too at times, I come barreling out of my warm little duplex and get halfway down the street before realising that the pavements are icy; my Fred Astaire routine is now quite athletic and only stops when I hit the even more treacherous cobbles in Elm Hill Street and am required to adopt a hunched and geriatric shuffle). Such a large amount of light coloured eyes here - all shades of green, blue and grey with the occasional flash of topaz and amber. Of course many people are bundled up in dark coats against the occasional chill so it's like snorkeling in Lake Malawi - monochrome and then flashes of colour as the cichlids swim past.

Another way to spend spare time here is looking for a house to buy. Three broad categories I guess; country cottage, suburban house or city apartment. I've looked at all three and bugger me if I can make a decision. I suspect it'll be the suburbs again - it is a compromise between the constriction of a small apartment and the space and isolation of a 1700's cottage in the Broads. I've seen some lovely old cottages but my DIY skills are notoriously limited - and I think those kind of things are projects for couples anyway. Not that I'm wimping out - just that I would find it difficult to summon the enthusiasm to work alone on the place after a full week at the office.

Ah well, back to the office and more induction meetings. It is a complex and complicated role I have accepted here, managing HR programmes in a large company with tens of thousands of employees and a propensity for "Ready Fire Aim" kind of project generation. Christmas will be with a clutch of African cousins now doing very well over here, New Year probably nowhere in particular. Greetings of the Season to you all.