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Saga of a woman old enough to know better who lets her life be governed by the ridiculous hobby of breeding and showing dogs, musing on life, the twenty first century, Cameron and his mini-me, and the occasional sheep.
"IN DOG YEARS, I`M DEAD"

Saturday, November 26, 2005

DEEP AND CRISP AND EVEN 

So there I was yesterday, innocently walking up the road to civilisation and buses when the blizzard hit.

Couldn`t see my hand in front of my face. Instant Christmas card.

And it was the same in many parts of the country. Of course it was forecast. Of course no precaution were taken. The result was as usual hundreds of motorists stranded (by two inches of snow), having to be rescued from lines of stationary cars on motorways, and the local councils berated for doing nothing. It always happens.

I reckon it`s money. The councils calculate the shame of a few days` abuse over their incompetence against the cost of actually being prepared and decide to take their lumps and hope it`s forgotten soon.

Snow can be difficult for me. If my road carries any more than a few inches of snow I`m cut off from any motorised access and have to do a lot of walking.

A couple of years ago we had a period of snow and I had, as usual, chest problems. A car wouldn`t make it down the road. I looked at the snow and decided that if I was going to see a doctor I had better start now, before I needed to hitch the Papillons to a sled. So I set off in the blizzard.

But I really wasn`t well, and realised I wouldn`t make it. I asked my neighbour for help, but his car wouldn`t start. I plodded on a bit up the hill, then my energy gave out altogether. I sat down at the side of the road, waiting to feel well enough to get back home.

Along came some kids. "Are you no well, missis?"

I told them I was trying to get to a doctor.

"We`ll fix it!"

A vehicle lumbered up the road. I heard them stop it, shouting "Thon woman`s near deid! You have to get her to a doctor!" A bemused driver helped me up into the cab and in no time I was at the Health Centre. It was the alarmed look from the medical staff that made me look more closely at my saviour....

I had arrived at their door in a huge sewage tanker, dripping human you know what from a couple of loose connections at the back all over their no doubt disinfected doorstep. I was lucky not to get a yellow biohazard sticker slapped on me instead of the antibiotics I needed.

Snow is best on Christmas cards. With robins. I like robins.
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