The photo that I've chosen as my self portrait isn't technically brilliant (by a loooooong shot), I don't look stunningly beautiful (especially with my red nose and make up free face), but I love this more than any other photo of me.
This was taken at 7.30am on the first day of snow this year. We both love snow, the only thing that beats snow is Christmas. We had been religiously checking the weather forecast in the days leading up. I had even been elected as my Company's official weather girl. During a sleepless night, I looked outside the window numerous times in a bid to see the first flakes...nothing.
I was even awake enough at midnight to be the first to wish the Other Half a happy Birthday...oh yeah...expected snow day was also his birthday, I forgot to mention that!
At 6am I got out of bed to put the news on and everyone was talking about the snow, but there was still nothing falling. I had pretty much promised all my colleagues that we would be getting Friday off as a snow day and it was looking like I would get lynched in the canteen later.
I took one last forlorn look out the window before I had to start getting ready and there gently drifting down were the first tiny flakes. The curtains were pulled wide open and we watched as it soon started falling harder, quickly settling, covering the grotty grey world in glittering white.
We couldn't stay indoors, we spent the day outside, talking to other walkers, having snowball fights, making snow angels. We went to our local pub and spoke to people for the first time. The birthday presents were opened with gratitude but were quickly put to one side. The birthday dinner had to be cancelled.
We took photo after photo, but none captured our excitement as much as this first one, taken at the end of our road as the snow fell around us.