On Saturday John and I were due to attend the Amber Valley Riding Club dinner. They are the people who organise the pleasure rides we've been doing for the past few years.
But it snowed.
Undeterred, we got changed and set off down the road, down the steep hill, (all fine) and into the nearest town, where we slid right across the road. There was loads of snow.
We decided it wasn't worth trying to make the journey, especially if we ended up getting stuck there and having to stay the night. Neither of us had a phone either.
So we decided to try to make it to Tesco instead as we had no food in the house and no idea how long the snow would last.
So we shopped.
It was still snowing when we came out.
All went well until we got to the bottom of the steep hill. The poor car just could not (or would not!) get up the hill. John revved and revved. And down we slid.
I am trying to make this sound slightly comical, but to be honest, it was one of the most frightening situations I've ever been in. I didn't know whether it would be worse to slide slowly into one of the dry stone walls or gain momentum as we slid further and further down the road, possibly to the junction at the bottom to be hit by an oncoming car.
After ten minutes I decided I could stand it no longer and leapt out of the car.
And so began the trudge home. Fortunately this presentation dinner isn't a particularly dressy affair and I was wearing a wool dress, thick tights and my three inch heeled boots, in which I can normally take about ten strides before collapsing into the nearest seat!
But I decided just to take little steps and keep going. Then I realised that in my haste I had left my gloves in the car, but luckily I was wearing my black fluffy hat, which did quite well at protecting me, but every time I came to a gap in the hedge, the wind whistled through it and froze my face.
On and on I walked, past the riding school, up and up and up, the boots actually doing surprisingly well at sinking into the snow and giving me a firm footing.
No sign of John or the car.
And then another car passed me and the young male driver offered me a lift. It frightened the life out of me. I said, "No it's okay, I only live there!" pointing to just beyond the crossroads. I asked him if he'd seen a little silver car and he said no, but there were lots of marks in the snow. Oh dear.
As it happened, John had driven back down the hill and gone the long way round, which isn't so steep and had actually set out to meet me.
I looked like a yeti by the time he finally caught up with me and we went indoors together to thaw out and sit down with a ready-cooked chicken and some hot chocolate.
Oh well. I've emailed the organisers of the dinner to apologise for our absense and ask if we can collect our awards. I wonder how many people actually made it through.
As for me, I'll be staying indoors as much as possible, from now on. In fact, there's the possibility of a little 'better-late-than-never' hibernation in the offing.
Thanks for looking in today. Wrap up warm, everyone. And if you have any elderly neighbours, just pop in and make sure they're okay, will you? I get so worried about people at this time of year (and don't forget to feed the birds!)
Jane
