The Met Office has a lot to answer for: a siege mentality in the supermarket where I walked about happily with just one pint of milk in my basket as the atmosphere turned positively Salem-like. The checkout lady said staff had been offered pillows and duvets so they could sleep in store when the Ice Age descends. “It’s been as busy as Christmas Eve,” she commented, wearily. Children ran amok while harassed mothers shoved trolleys the size of shipping containers, buying endless supplies of grapes (essential in a starvation situation) and smelly candles (presumably to be traded on the black market when the world economies falter on White Monday).
I came home with a tin of tomato soup (25% reduced salt) and a fat ball for the birds.
I figure when the avalanche happens, I can pick the seeds off the fat ball, then lick the peanut butter for added energy. At a push I might make a candle and invite someone round for dinner….