The snow made an entrée at around 3 o'clock, when I was still doing my chores in town. I was quite embarrassed by the instant satisfaction it seemed to bring everyone. People were saying 'Merry Christmas', et cetera. That isn't depressing in itself, but I felt it rather lame that a thimbleful of snow should be the trigger for such happy gestures. Could they have not waited for it to settle? For only once it settles is it really beautiful and worth celebrating. The 3 o'clock bout of snow only lasted about fifteen minutes and had melted before you could say Jack Robinson.
From 5 till 7 I was working while listening to BBC Radio 2. Chris Evans (who is a nutter) kept reading out texts sent to him from all across the country, all about the same thing: the weather. In Brighton, where we were currently without snow, it seemed quite foreboding, especially when I heard there was snow as near as Southampton and Surrey.
Sure enough, the snow came. At around quarter to nine I could make out the familiar white flakes illuminated by the street light. It took me around half an hour to realise the stuff was actually settling. It didn't stop, and at around 11.20pm I took a walk. I must say, it was amongst the most hostile walks I have taken. Of course, it was a magnificent sight... that which I could make out. But it was practically a blizzard, and the torrent of snow made it impossible to walk, as the direction I wished to walk was against the wind. Soon a wall of snow had formed on my jumper, a wall so well built I had to shake it fairly vigorously to break it off. But the bricks kept coming.
I was only out for about ten minutes, though there were a few others out too, some still trying to make it from A to B, others simply out to enjoy it.
Seeing things at night is one thing. Seeing things in the honest light of day is another. So I set my alarm clock for dawn.
What an awful thing an alarm is to wake up to! There is no sound more frightening to greet the dozy and confused brain. Perhaps someone shouting or screaming, or a cat growling would be worse, but at least they would be natural. The alarm has been designed to alert and scare us. Worst of all, however, is not being woken up by the alarm so much as waking up just before it goes off. This adds the dread of anticipation into the equation.
Which is precisely what happened this morning. Well, it certainly got my heart racing and I had no choice but to get up. Within ten minutes I was out. Brighton under heavy snow is a rare sight to behold. And I really do mean rare. Say, once every five years. We get snow more often than that, but it is seldom cold enough for it to settle. Well, today was an exception. The side roads were full of the stuff, and even the main roads were not immune. The salt managed to ward off the first round of fire, but the onslaught of the ice brigade proved too much for it and it had to yield. The aftermath was eerie. The few cars that went along were virtually silent, only the slightest purr of the engine to be heard. They were almost sliding across. Eerie is the best word, for I feel it signifies an experience that is close to what we are used to, but different in such a way as to make it strange to perceive.
The roads and the pavements were basically one, and one had to watch where one trod. I'd say the snow was about 2 inches deep, or 5 centimetres, though it varied, as there had been some wind, meaning there was more snow on the ground than there was on rooftops or railings.
Returned home at about 8, removed my cap and coat and delighted in the warmth. I did not take any photographs. Do you know why? Because then I would have simply posted them here in the "well, see for yourself" style of presentation. With this done, I might have forgone the effort of writing.
Just realised I never updated you about the MiniFTOPS. All four of us DKSOPERS played the 7-Game but none of us cashed. I'm not suggesting we had an edge there. I made it to the 15-minute blinds part (15 levels in) but went bust in NLHE of all games. A9 versus AJ on a A54 board with two diamonds. Was short. He min-check raised to 2,000. But there was only 4,000 left in my stack so I had to go with it.
Also played the $26 KO six-max with deuce. Like the 7-Game it was a very good structure, but I ended up making a hero shove with TT on a Jack High board. Basically, I put him on AK, but he had QJ. Won a few all ins, but then shoved 89 suited UTG (six-max, remember!) for an M of around 5. Was called by Kings and lost. I think it may have been a shove too far but then I would say that, because I lost. Nevertheless, am working on an essay concerning the exact topic of survival-shoving in tournaments. There is great motivation behind the topic, because the question of "should I shove here of wait for a better spot" comes up in basically every tournament. I embark upon this project with an open mind, and I may be surprised by the conclusions. I hope the other DKSOP playerwriters will read it with an open mind too.
Currently down $155 from my stars adventure, but it's a long term thing so can't be too disappointed just yet. "Oh well".
From 5 till 7 I was working while listening to BBC Radio 2. Chris Evans (who is a nutter) kept reading out texts sent to him from all across the country, all about the same thing: the weather. In Brighton, where we were currently without snow, it seemed quite foreboding, especially when I heard there was snow as near as Southampton and Surrey.
Sure enough, the snow came. At around quarter to nine I could make out the familiar white flakes illuminated by the street light. It took me around half an hour to realise the stuff was actually settling. It didn't stop, and at around 11.20pm I took a walk. I must say, it was amongst the most hostile walks I have taken. Of course, it was a magnificent sight... that which I could make out. But it was practically a blizzard, and the torrent of snow made it impossible to walk, as the direction I wished to walk was against the wind. Soon a wall of snow had formed on my jumper, a wall so well built I had to shake it fairly vigorously to break it off. But the bricks kept coming.
I was only out for about ten minutes, though there were a few others out too, some still trying to make it from A to B, others simply out to enjoy it.
Seeing things at night is one thing. Seeing things in the honest light of day is another. So I set my alarm clock for dawn.
What an awful thing an alarm is to wake up to! There is no sound more frightening to greet the dozy and confused brain. Perhaps someone shouting or screaming, or a cat growling would be worse, but at least they would be natural. The alarm has been designed to alert and scare us. Worst of all, however, is not being woken up by the alarm so much as waking up just before it goes off. This adds the dread of anticipation into the equation.
Which is precisely what happened this morning. Well, it certainly got my heart racing and I had no choice but to get up. Within ten minutes I was out. Brighton under heavy snow is a rare sight to behold. And I really do mean rare. Say, once every five years. We get snow more often than that, but it is seldom cold enough for it to settle. Well, today was an exception. The side roads were full of the stuff, and even the main roads were not immune. The salt managed to ward off the first round of fire, but the onslaught of the ice brigade proved too much for it and it had to yield. The aftermath was eerie. The few cars that went along were virtually silent, only the slightest purr of the engine to be heard. They were almost sliding across. Eerie is the best word, for I feel it signifies an experience that is close to what we are used to, but different in such a way as to make it strange to perceive.
The roads and the pavements were basically one, and one had to watch where one trod. I'd say the snow was about 2 inches deep, or 5 centimetres, though it varied, as there had been some wind, meaning there was more snow on the ground than there was on rooftops or railings.
Returned home at about 8, removed my cap and coat and delighted in the warmth. I did not take any photographs. Do you know why? Because then I would have simply posted them here in the "well, see for yourself" style of presentation. With this done, I might have forgone the effort of writing.
Just realised I never updated you about the MiniFTOPS. All four of us DKSOPERS played the 7-Game but none of us cashed. I'm not suggesting we had an edge there. I made it to the 15-minute blinds part (15 levels in) but went bust in NLHE of all games. A9 versus AJ on a A54 board with two diamonds. Was short. He min-check raised to 2,000. But there was only 4,000 left in my stack so I had to go with it.
Also played the $26 KO six-max with deuce. Like the 7-Game it was a very good structure, but I ended up making a hero shove with TT on a Jack High board. Basically, I put him on AK, but he had QJ. Won a few all ins, but then shoved 89 suited UTG (six-max, remember!) for an M of around 5. Was called by Kings and lost. I think it may have been a shove too far but then I would say that, because I lost. Nevertheless, am working on an essay concerning the exact topic of survival-shoving in tournaments. There is great motivation behind the topic, because the question of "should I shove here of wait for a better spot" comes up in basically every tournament. I embark upon this project with an open mind, and I may be surprised by the conclusions. I hope the other DKSOP playerwriters will read it with an open mind too.
Currently down $155 from my stars adventure, but it's a long term thing so can't be too disappointed just yet. "Oh well".
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