There are many divisions in our society and in the glorious Gallic tradition I say ‘Vive la Difference’ to most things (except, naturally, when it contradicts what I think about the matter) but last month, as the icy winds did blow and the road gritters self-evidently did not go forth in gay abandon, no dividing line in common psyche was brought more sharply into relief than our reaction to the snow. There are two camps out there – the glorious revelers in a Dickensian vision of the lie of the land and the curmudgeonly bemoaners of the state of the roads and the difficulties in getting to work (for goodness sake!). As adults we lose enough of our childish delight and wonderment at the simple pleasures in life so let’s revel in those who greet the snow first with a gasp of awe as the curtains are opened first thing in the morning, then with a whoop of joy at the carpet of Christmas card whiteness. Stay in, watch the flakes settle and settle down with a DVD and a duvet if you must but make it your own and love every minute of it. Get the kids out making snowmen and put up with the odd snowball trickling slowly down your neck. The last time it happened was 1991 so go on, take some time off (your boss can’t get in either anyway) and enjoy – it’ll probably be another 20 years before we see it again. And if you must be one of the snow sneering or winter whingeing brigade, go on then – prepare yourself. Spend £500 on a set of snow chains, pack a thermos, a shovel, a sack of salt and some thermal unmentionables and sit in your car all day trying to navigate to wherever you think you just have to get to. That way you’ll be out of the way of the rest of us who want to enjoy it and, if you keep the radio on, we won’t be able to hear the grumbles about the Met Office and the Highways Agency emanating from the driver’s seat. Just make sure you keep your windows up tight so I can’t be tempted to shove a snowball up your jumper as you pass by – with an infectious sense of delight of course.