Current work: French duo book 2
Listening to: Corelli (essential for driving on bad roads)
Reading: Lucy Dillon, Lost Dogs and Lonely Hearts (enjoying though has put a lump in my throat)
New tumble dryer arrived this morning at the crack of dawn – well, actually, no, earlier than that. Our slot was 7-2 today. ‘They won’t come at 7,’ says DH. Phone rings at ten to (while I’m in the shower). DH eats humble pie...
Am immensely pleased with it. Helpfully, it beeps when it’s finished. And instead of sticking it on for a time and knowing you’re going to have to check and adjust, you tell it what kind of stuff you’re putting in (sheets and towels or clothes) and how dry you want it (very dry, cupboard dry, iron dry – ha, not the latter in this house because I have minimum iron off to a fine art), and it tells you how long it’ll be. V clever. Oh, and if you don't get the stuff out straight away, for the next hour it fluffs up the laundry every five minutes to avoid creasing. (Ha. Even better on the minimum iron front.)
School run was horrendous. It was minus three for the whole trip, according to car thermometer. The so-called main road was very slippery (and yet the back road through the village, which I’d expected to be a nightmare, was clear) – and this is despite the fact that we have it much better here than the rest of the country does. Hope everyone out there is staying warm and safe.
DH and I were reminiscing about bad winters. The worst I can remember was in early 1987, when BT were on strike and I had to walk two miles in the snow to find a phone box that worked. (Kids were stunned to think there was a time when mobile phones were nonexistent. I remember that winter extremely well as I was a student, it was just after my mum died, Dad was in pieces and the snow made everything worse.)
I also remember being snowed in during 1978 (which I think went on for longer). And there was one in the mid-90s where the snow was so bad that we couldn’t find our exit off the bypass in Norwich. I’d had to go to Sheffield for work, and went by train because I refused flatly to drive in those conditions; DH was a hero and met me from the station.
Probably the worst during the children’s lifetime was Jan 2003, when the M11 was blocked for two days. This was the day before bestest coz’s wedding, so she was very nearly without a pageboy and bridesmaid…
I’m not old enough to remember the winters of the 1960s, though we do have some cine film of me and the dogs in the snow in 1970, when I would’ve been just about four.
What’s the worst snow you can remember?