The streets of Southall and the road to hell…

Jack Frost visited overnight and left some beautiful souvenirs on car windscreens this morning.

The pavements, however, are treacherous.

I saw a number of little kids slide and tumble on the way into school. As we climbed up and over the canal footbridge and approached the invisibly icy downward steps to the school side, we all received a text message from the headteacher asking us to be mindful of the slippery conditions. Distracted by the beeps and buzzes in our hands, on our wrists and in our pockets, we all reflexively reached out, shifted our focus and fell like lemmings over the edge of the top step and down into a crumpled, groaning heap of legs and arms, shouts and cries. Well… Not really. We all carried on like the battle-hardened school-runners we are and dragged, coerced, danced and sang our recalcitrant little ones into class as usual. It could have been worse.