I was 4 in 1947. We lived in south London. I remember the snow because on several Sundays, my mother got out the pram to go to church (me, DS, in pram, DGM and her) and the snow was so deep, even on south London streets, she opened the back gate, took a look at how deep the snow was on the street and brought the pram back in.
I remember it so clearly because, as catholics, we went to church every Sunday without fail, so to have several weeks when we didn't go was memorable.
I was at university during the 1963 freeze-up. My father was staioned in Germany at the time, where it was even colder than in the UK. After the Christmas vacation at home in Munchen Gladbach, I returned to Newcastle - and could not get over how warm it was. Everyone thought I was mad - but they hadn't been in Germany, on the German plain, with nothing to break the wind as it came off the Steppes.