A new experience

Yesterday, the country did not so much grind to a halt because of the snow as fail to get started. Brighton did eventually have buses running, but not to the outskirts and areas such as where we live. Gatwick airport sent out its first flight at 5.30pm, and most trains had stopped running by 8.00pm (those that had been run in the first place). Because we get these conditions so rarely it would be quite uneconomic to do any more than we already do in an effort to overcome the situation. Snow chains, for example, would be used maybe one year in ten, and even then we would be for ever putting them on and taking them off as some roads are covered in snow and ice while others are clear. But to my new experience - putting a lady's clothes on. On her, that is - not on me. Madam, unfortunately, tripped while cleaning the lounge, hurt her wrist so badly it felt as though it was broken, and banged her forehead against the wall. The lump that came up was so big, and the pain in her wrist so bad, that in normal circumstances I would have not hesitated to drive her to hospital. But I couldn't get the car out. So I decided that if Madam couldn't go to the hospital, the hospital had better come to her in the form of a couple of paramedics in an ambulance. Apparently, two ambulances were despatched, a normal one and a 4x4. They both tried to access our road from the far end (which is not so steep as this end but still uphill) only for both of them to get stuck. Nearly half an hour later, the normal ambulance was parked as close as they could get and the paramedics made their way on foot. They thought there was nothing broken, just soft tissue damage, but wanted to take Mrs S to hospital to be checked over and have her wrist strapped. The problem would have been getting back home again - nearly a physical impossibility for her - so we declined the kind offer. Meanwhile, Mrs S needs help with such things as putting on socks, doing up her bra etc. As I pointed out to her, I have had much more practice taking ladies' clothes off than putting them on.

Here we go again

Last year, the Met Office forecast a "barbecue summer". And what happened? We had a couple of very nice weeks in May, followed by the wettest July for umpteen years and a dismal August. Those clever (and doubtless highly paid) weather people next forecast a mild winter. December turned out to be one of the coldest on record and half the country ground to a halt during the snow just before Christmas. Now we are snowed in again. This was the view from the bedroom this morning, with the Downs almost visible in the background.


I hear on the radio that Gatwick airport is closed and that it is too dangerous for buses to be run in Brighton.

There is no way I can get the car up the drive, and even if I could, the road is, of course, impassable. That means that two dinners today have been scrapped. Being the first Wednesday of the month, today should have seen the Lions' dinner meeting. We were planning a very informal affair, but because of various problems our social secretary was unable to make the arrangements with the selected restaurant. I offered to take the OB out to dinner at the Italian in the village, and we were to be joined by three others. I have just come off the phone with one of them and we have agreed not to venture out.

But we are better off than a Scottish lady I read about the other day. She and her husband live at Cape Wrath, which is either the most northerly point of the British mainland or damn near it, and she set off on 22 December to fetch the Christmas turkey from town. This involved her husband driving her 11 miles to the spot where they keep their boat. Then she sailed across the firth (estuary?) to a point where she could catch a bus into town. Unfortunately, it snowed while she was out and her husband couldn't drive to collect her. She spent Christmas and New Year living in her sister's caravan while her husband was at home, alone but for their six dogs. And a couple of walkers who called into the remote cafe the couple run - on Christmas Day. (It was that last touch that made me sceptical about the veracity of the report. What were people doing walking in such a remote spot on Christmas Day? Where had they come from and where were they going to?)

Athena B

I have been very busy scanning onto the computer some of my collection of 35mm slides and I came across this one showing the MV Athena B which beached near the Palace Pier, Brighton, way back in January 1980. Amazing to think it is nearly thirty years since that happened! I was working in Brighton at the time and managed to get down to the beach during my lunch hour - along with a few hundred others.

Bah, humbug!

I don't think I really resemble Scrooge in my thoughts about Christmas celebrations and holidays, although I realise that others may have a different opinion, but I can't wait until Twelfth Night: the decorations are coming down today. The Christmas pudding was eaten in only a couple of days, the turkey is finished (apart from what is left in the remains of the turkey and ham pie the Old Bat made) and I estimate that it will take me just three more days to eat the rest of the cake (the OB only eats the marzipan and icing, leaving me to eat practically all the cake).

I am something of a 'routine' person and it will be good to get back to having the room as it usually is, with the armchair moved away from the television where it has to be moved to make way for the tree. That will save me craning my neck to watch, although truth be told, there hasn't been much I have wanted to watch lately. One good thing is that the news will be broadcast at its regular time instead of being shunted around anywhere between 9.50 and 11.25. I wonder when Jo Kent will be back on our screens?

Just a few of life's little pleasures

• Pressing the snooze button one more time.
• That first cup of tea in the morning.
• Hearing nothing but a skylark singing as it soars over the Downs.
• Watching very young lambs chasing each other.
• The scent of daphne.
  
• Taking my shoes off after I've worn them all day.
• The feeling I get after a good meal with enough to eat but not too much.
• Seeing Jo Kent's smile.
• Freshly laundered sheets when I get into bed.

Jo Kent is a newsreader on our local TV, currently on maternity leave.

Where has the day gone?

Here I am at gone five o'clock and I haven't managed to do half of what I wanted to. Oh well, there's always tomorrow.

“There is no pleasure in having nothing to do. The pleasure is in having lots to do, and not doing it.”
~ John W. Raper (whoever he is/was)

The Old Bat and I don't do staying up to see in the New Year. We did when we used to have dinner with friends on New Year's Eve, but that fell by the wayside some years back. Now we moan about the lousy television programmes (we did again last night) and watch a DVD before going to bed at about the usual time. Last night was no different, except that we were a little later than usual going to bed as the film was longer than we expected. We were still awake when we heard the fireworks welcoming the new year.

Another thing I don't do is resolutions, although that is perhaps only part of the truth. I am still keeping one I made years ago - never to make another New Year's resolution.