The lovely Sharon, the little man, and I ventured out today.  The day’s mission was to make it to the shops to get essential supplies.  When I say essentials, I mean the luxury items that cannot be purchased by walking the one and a half miles to the village.

The first step was to clear the depth of snow on the driveway to ensure the car would not be swamped in it.  I even put together a crude snowplough of planks and rope.  This was quite effective and made the whole process easier.  For a brief moment it was extremely effective; I tied a rather large flagstone to it to weigh it down.  This made it bight down deep in the snow and clear it very well. . . . for three feet, where I could no longer drag it further.  I wonder what the combined pulling force of two cats and four chickens is?  I could put a bowl of sliced ham at the bottom of the drive to entice Tillie and a warm bed to entice Tallie.  The chickens would prove more difficult as they hunker down to the ground so much that we nearly step on them all the time.

An hour later and the lane was clear, ish. The roads were the worst I have ever seen.  I am pleased to say that most people were taking it slow.  I am not pleased to say that some people have no concept of a safe breaking distance.  One person had their distance behind as less than safe for a lovely summer day never mind conditions were breaks don’t actually work.  Rant over.

The lovely Sharon usually enjoys shopping.  She likes to wander the isles and ponder all the items and think of lovely things she can make.  However, today she had her composure tested and did not enjoy the experience at all; it was end of the world shopping at the supermarket.  I am not brilliant with crowds, so to distract and amuse myself I counted the shoppers with walking boots and rucksacks.  Attached to a couple of pairs of Wellington boots were friends of ours.  They too had their little man in tow.  It turns out that they would not have been able to get their supplies today if it had not been for the kind help of a local farmer who ploughed their road and lane.  I imagine that this is the story over much of the land today.  Before we parted and battled the trolleys we were reassured that we were not mad, when we confided that we each had shovels in our cars.  It’s s’no joke.

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