We are snowed in. Hurrah!
And we are not in the Highlands of Scotland or the Alps or the Rockies. We are in the sunny seaside English coastal resort of Brighton, where families and gay couples come to frolick in the sun.
Not today they don't.
In the "worst weather since... etc etc" we've had some lovely snow overnight, with more to come, and outside, while there may be no trains, buses, roads open, or anything normal, Brighton Beach is suddenly white.
In Scotland this morning, the BBC teletext tells me with some glee "flights are cancelled" because English airports are closed - I can hear the sound of raucous laughter all the way down here ("a wee bitta snow??") - but for a few moments it's going to lie and cause some trouble.
Schools are closed, obviously, and if I were a kid I'd be out NOW with a tin tray sliding down the nearest hill which, rather ironically, is likely to be one of the shingle slopes on the beach.