Two days ago, here in our Welsh fastness, there were two knocks on our kitchen door. After nearly three weeks of isolation we'd almost forgotten what that sounds like. The first, in the afternoon, was one of our farmer neighbours (whom we've known since he was a teenager) who said he'd been talking to our other farmer neighbour (whom we've known since he was born) and had come to see how we were coping. DH told him about the Tesco delivery and assured him we could manage until the snow disappeared.
The other knock was at 8pm, just as I was about to dish up our meal, and it was the younger neighbour, apologising for having taken so long to get to us and telling us he'd just ploughed the lane with his lowered tractor bucket! He couldn't do it until the snow had started to thaw properly, as by the time the council had cleared the road between his house and our lane, our drifts were too deep and too frozen for him to attempt. Apparently all the minor roads around us were snowbound for at least 3 days after the snow fell, which is an unusually long time for council roads, even minor ones, to stay blocked. The last time that happened up here was the great blizzard of 1982.
So we're free at last and yesterday afternoon I was able to go out to a meeting I was sure I would miss. I love DH very much, but it was so nice to see some other faces and talk to different people for a while. Now I’m going to have to find something else to blog about……
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