Breaking the ice
Got up late, and the Twitten a death trap of black ice. The road leading down to the station appalling too. Lorraine cooked brunch, and I went outside with a spade and broke up some of the ice outside my house to the end of the Twitten. Went upstairs to my study to continue work o n the short story only for the incessant clanging of a spade outside. I'd woken the Twitten Spirit, so I went out and Hillary and Joy were out there. Joy and I cleared the whole length of the Twitten of ice, which took about 40 minutes. Me spearing and shattering the ice with a garden fork, and Joy shoveling it to the side. Meanwhile Lorraine and Hillary made a safe path across the road down to the station, as yet another casualty was taken to hospital, having to be winched down the hill by the fire service. Amazing how many streets were completely ungritted.
After Lorraine and I had a glass of wine with Joy standing in the Twitten, warm as toast.
Then sliding down the treacherous lanes to The Basketmakers where we met Matt and his parents David and Anne for an entertaining chat. David was born in Canada and was a merchant seaman, and talked lyrically about the aloneness of being in the middle of the ocean. He also said that on one slow voyage across the tropics the whole crew had gone naked for three weeks due to the intense heat.
Good to see Matt, and we squeezed in a few moments talking about our project too. All very exciting.
Then we all slid up the hill to the station, and for Lorraine and I home and warmth.
Got up late, and the Twitten a death trap of black ice. The road leading down to the station appalling too. Lorraine cooked brunch, and I went outside with a spade and broke up some of the ice outside my house to the end of the Twitten. Went upstairs to my study to continue work o n the short story only for the incessant clanging of a spade outside. I'd woken the Twitten Spirit, so I went out and Hillary and Joy were out there. Joy and I cleared the whole length of the Twitten of ice, which took about 40 minutes. Me spearing and shattering the ice with a garden fork, and Joy shoveling it to the side. Meanwhile Lorraine and Hillary made a safe path across the road down to the station, as yet another casualty was taken to hospital, having to be winched down the hill by the fire service. Amazing how many streets were completely ungritted.
After Lorraine and I had a glass of wine with Joy standing in the Twitten, warm as toast.
Then sliding down the treacherous lanes to The Basketmakers where we met Matt and his parents David and Anne for an entertaining chat. David was born in Canada and was a merchant seaman, and talked lyrically about the aloneness of being in the middle of the ocean. He also said that on one slow voyage across the tropics the whole crew had gone naked for three weeks due to the intense heat.
Good to see Matt, and we squeezed in a few moments talking about our project too. All very exciting.
Then we all slid up the hill to the station, and for Lorraine and I home and warmth.
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