Snow to no

Snow to no

Five years ago we had snow.  We didnt just have a bit of snow, we had snow, with bells on.  It arrived in early November and finally left some time in March.  I have friends from North Dakota who are rolling in the ailses as they read this, but give us a break:)  We live along a single track lane with no passing places and some serious ditches if you misjudge the edge of the lane.  Five years ago we left my car (the big family one) in the village and kept the Subaru at home.  Stuart became the 4×4 taxi driver.  It was at least 4 months before I could drive my faithful old Galaxy home again.

Yesterday it snowed.  At first we watched the wet stuff disappear and then it gradually became thicker and thicker, by mid afternoon we were   becoming concerned.  Our lane has a long gradual uphill slope, if you can get to the top you are quids in, but we have got about  3/4 of the way up and then slid back down again more times than any of us care to remember.

Living in the back of beyond in a 12th Century farmhouse is great – in the summer, in the winter it can be a bit of a challenge.  This afternoon the Christmas tree arrived.  This required me to slip slide away across the courtyard to dig out the boxes of Christmas decorations.  All went well until I went out to get a hammer at which point I went arse over tit in a big way. It was sore.

It was not helped by the fact that I have a bruised/cracked rib already.  Slipping and landing on my bum gave my already bloody painful rib a serious jolt.  I am 52 years old.  I sat in the snow, in the dark, on my bum and cried.  I cried like a toddler.  It hurt and I had had enough.

Sometimes it is the hair that breaks the camel’s back, but that doesn’t mean the camel doesn’t hurt.  If it all gets too much and you just want to wail, then wail away.  There is a huge difference between self pity and saying enough is enough.  Don’t get to the stage where you have to slip on the ice, land on your bum and burst into tears.

Today, it’s okay to say no.

Gillie xDSC_0087