Being a Donut Child and ever prepared to batten down the hatches at the slightest sign of a National crises, smugly sitting among my tins of baked bean tins and kick starting my generator, I am of the opinion that if it is going to snow then let it SNOW. None of this little sprinkling that stays on the ground for all of 10 minutes, I am only happy with chest height snow drifts. Only then can you say to me there has been a blizzard in central London.
I was chatting to Mr S last night as he drove away from London, trying to stay ahead of the snow storm and we exchanged snow stories. These tales are like most Spanish Senoras, as they get older, they get hairier! He was telling me about the time, he took the last train to run out of London, in the middle of a snow storm. When he reached his destination in deepest Chav land (he is sooo going to get me back for that!), he found the station deserted and his car under waist deep snow. Wearing only a suit and a trench coat he decided, in his wisdom to walk home. His walk home involved cutting through a park, with a great big lake in the middle of it. This lake nearly always froze over but wasn't safe enough to walk on. He pushed his way through massive snow drifts and eventually reached home, safe and sound. When he got home, soaking wet and shivering, he finally realised what had been bugging him during the entire walk through the park. Not once had he tripped over a low flowerbed wall or stumbled into a fence. This could only mean one thing, he had walked most of the way over the lake and had survived to tell the tale!
I have a couple of tales myself. The year I passed my driving test I lived with my Army husband at RAF Upavon on the edge of Salisbury plain. At the time I worked in Tech Admin at the tank depot in Ludgershall and I had been on a tank driving course around the test track the week before. The course was so much fun and I got to drive everything from a Ferret scout car to a Chieftain tank, with a Haagglund Snow vehicle thrown in for good measure. In fact, it became a bit of a grudge match between me and my Officer Commanding. I disliked the man intensely as he insisted on calling me a camp follower, no matter, I used to spit in his coffee! (Shameful but true...)
Back to the snow story, during the night we had about three feet of snow. It didn't occur to me to ring in and say I couldn't get through the snow. Oh no! there was no way I was going to give the OC any ammunition to use in more sneering, chauvinistic remarks against me. So I rang Pa and took advice. Large sack of spuds in boot, check; blanket, check; spade, check; thermos, check. Army thermal underwear in olive drab, check! Off I went, dug myself out of a couple of snowdrifts en route and finally made it in two hours later.
I was feeling very pleased with myself until I heard a shout from the OC's office. 'If Mrs H has made it in, where the hell is Sgt Lamb' he roared. Turns out that Sgt Lamb lived 3 miles closer than me and had phoned in to say he couldn't get through. Poor Sgt Lamb pulled Duty Officer for some weekends to follow.....
More recently I was working as a Support Worker and covered an area from Plymouth to Liskeard. I had just dropped a lady off in Tavistock when my son's headmaster rang to say he was closing the school as it had snowed heavily in Bodmin. The difference in the local weather can be quite dramatic as not a flake had fallen in Tavistock. I raced back home as quickly as I could. I got to Liskeard, some 11 miles out of Bodmin and hit traffic. I was in the Glyn Valley, a beautiful winding tree lined road with steep banks and sharp drops either side of it. I stayed there for 8 and a half hours, choking on engine exhaust fumes and finally peeing in a MacDonald's cup! Luckily I was a Donut child and had water and blankets in the car.
I was pretty fed up and muttering darkly about my stupid bloody council not gritting that morning. I said as much in a text to David, the guy I was seeing at the time. But I inadvertently sent it to Dan Rogerson, my local MP, who's name was above David on my contact list....oops. I need not have worried as a text from Dan pinged straight back, "I am about a mile up the road from you...my sentiments exactly! Dan". To this day we text each other on New Years Eve and muse about the chance of snow. What a decent bloke.
I rang Pa tonight to get his snow story. 'Didn't you once dig Princess Anne out of a snow drift in Germany' I said. 'Nah' he replied nonchalantly ' I broke into her car in the middle of a rain storm, when she locked herself out....'!
So wherever you are I may be a fan of 'big snow' but I hope that you all reach your loved ones safely this Christmas.
Stay Warm
Muse x
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