After smugly digging ourselves out of the snow last weekend with the help of our nearest neighbour, I went back to work in Bristol on the Monday and Tuesday. Only, of course, for the snow to return with a vengeance.
My poor wife and son were stranded on the hill and I was stuck in Bristol for two nights, trying to meet the magazine’s print deadlines while worrying about how I was going to get home. Finally the mag was finished and I bolted out of the door (apologies for any typos but I hope you understand).
The journey by train to Abergavenny was slow and delayed twice but I got there. Then I had to dig my 4×4 out of the snow near the station. Fortunately it started first time and I got as far as the foot of our hill. Some neighbours at the bottom allowed me to park on their drive after watching me skid back and forth and make no progress.
And then it was a 20-minute plod uphill.
Halfway, I found our other car, deeply covered in snow – and a small ash tree that had fallen across the lane, narrowly missing the vehicle. Worse still was a huge ash tree hanging above the lane – held up purely by a neighbouring tree. I have no idea how to sort that one until the lane clears and we can get a tree surgeon up. Frankly, it’s terrifying.
Finally, I reached the door – it was lovely to see my little family warm and happy though a bit bored with the snow now.
Later that evening, my wife and I had a long chat about exactly how sensible we’d been buying a house on a hill in Wales. It was a LONG chat.
Still, when spring finally comes, we’ll appreciate it so much more.