More snow days
Lots more, apparently. I admit this walking home at 1 am thing could get old, although I’m more worried about my elderly car. I’ll have to get him started tomorrow and attempt to drive him somewhere, but neither my cul de sac nor the long mews driveway has been ploughed, and while I still cope reasonably well with snow*, I don’t cope with snow and walls that are less than a car-with-both-its-front-doors-open-at-the-same-time wide. There’s a long sort of tunnel at the mews, before you get to the jigsaw courtyard. And then there’s the jigsaw. Wiggling your way in and out requires a lot of as-far-but-no-farther back-and-forth-and-back-and-forth and it would only take one slither to put a dimple in one of the frelling BMWs. And once you get to the road, you have to deal with all the other drivers, many of whom drive like they believe snow is something that happens on reruns of Northern Exposure and nothing to do with them.**
Meanwhile. I know I usually do a guest post on Wednesday, but I wanted to give you my photojournalistic news of fresh disasters.*** That was before the weather report said we’re going to be doing this for the next fortnight. So there was frelling little hurry. But I got all thrilled by yesterday’s snow sky and the obvious thing to do was a Before and After. And then today it wouldn’t stop snowing so all my photos are really dark. But . . . too bad. You’re getting weather photos tonight and tomorrow you can have a guest blog.
Now supposing I stay on line long enough to load the photos.
Winter landscape. Yesterday morning’s back of beyond hurtle.
Snow sky.
Snow. We walked over to Old Eden and then out.
Snow with hellhounds.
The snow kept getting on the lens, and doing Conan-Doyle, fairies-at-the-bottom-of-your-garden things to my attempts at photos. So, maybe those star things are an alien intelligence trying to make contact through snowflake patterns.
This swan is so cold he’s gone rusty. Ha ha.
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* Although I don’t want to. That was my old life. In my new life the grass stays green all year round, and I spend December through February looking at it and giggling.
Wednesday night tower practise was cancelled. Yesterday’s handbell practise was cancelled. I dunno if Colin is going to feel like skating over from West Plinth tomorrow or not, for our usual Thursday handbells. I wouldn’t if I were he. But Niall is going to start going grey and sweaty and twitchy if he doesn’t get some handbells soon.
** There has actually been an invisible lightning-raid snow plough through here. And some moron left his car parked on the main road at the foot of my cul de sac. Which means that the mouth of the cul de sac hasn’t been ploughed, because the plough had to go around the moron. Don’t let me leave out the fact that it is illegal to park on the main road. You may remember that the cul de sac is steep, yes? And it would be really nice if your wheels had a chance to regroup on pavement before you just launch yourself into the road like a hellhound over a fence, and launching is what is going to happen as soon as that unploughed snow has been slid over and packed down once or twice more. At the moment the situation is pretty moot for me, since we’d never make it to the top of the hill anyway, where we get to park, so we won’t be coming down it any time soon either.
*** There must be some old Beyond the Fringe listeners out there?
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