Sunday was the first day in 5 weeks that we haven't had to dig the car out of the snow. We have left the farm on several occasions but only for an hour or two at most and this meant a couple of hours of digging away the freshly ploughed snow that was banked up against the side of Mary's trusty little motor. I say 'we' but the truth is that Mary did nearly all the digging as I searched helplessly for my inhaler. As I often say to her " Its great to have a man around the place" , I then wait for the immanent clip across the lug hole.
My car, normally a lovely shade of Iron Oxide held together by baler twine is parked further down the road. It's been under a 5ft snow drift for weeks now and rather resembles a pregnant bride draped in satin. I have yet to convince Mary that it would be good exercise and a marvellous weight loss activity to sprinkle a confetti of salt and set too with her spade and dig my car out. Still i can't tell you how nice it is to be able to leave the close environs of the farm and make an impromptu visit to gather supplies and warm ones hands on someone Else's fire. There has been panic buying at the local, not so super market and my fear of having to make bread from the last remaining packet of 'Birds Angel Delight', wild bird seed and a tin of 'Marvel' have not been founded. The not so sweet Oranges, probably grown in a greenhouse in Kent have I'm happy to say reversed the signs of scurvy that affect all snow dogs in the Northern hinterland.
This is not to say that all the snow has gone. We still have a foot or so laying on the fields but the filthy grit strewn blacktop of our back road has never looked better to me. I would, like the Pope have got on my hands and knees and kissed the blessed frozen Tarmac had i not feared getting my lips stuck and the fact that i noticed in the Nick of time, the flattened corpses of two rabbits, their furry bodies and gnashing teeth grimacing up at me. Thank god our supplies held out or those two coney's may have been for the pot.
It never ceases to amaze me that while we have been stuck here at the farm with a dwindling cache of logs and coal, heating oil and on occasions, electricity, I could think of a hundred places that I'd like to be, even if only a mile away. Now that we can leave with ease and at will, i cant think of a single place I'd rather be.
I hope the gardener is not under this lot.
ReplyDeleteAlan
One day the snow will melt and you will look around you and not be able to remember exactly where you buried Inwards and Switella and Anthony from New Jersey and Angeli the gruel maker and even silly old Rob Ryan but it doesnt matter because if you go up the little hill near your house to the gate and turn right and go to the end of the road and turn left at the junction and then turn right at the bottom of the hill and then keep going and going and keep making lefts and rights and keep going and turning and going you will find us eventually holding all the love for you in our hearts that we ever had. And though time goes by so slow and so quickly all the time there is in the world is so immense but still scarcely an hour in the day doesnt pass when some human being says to another human being somewhere in the world " have I told you about the time when me and Mark Rowney did this or said that or dreamed this together....
ReplyDeleteHad a look at the wonderful work on your website. Yes I can see you love the bees and butterflies. The detail is amazing.
ReplyDeleteThank you for the message at the Country Living site, which pointed me in your direction. Glad you liked my Dragonfly. You can look at more of my drawings at my blog.
Milly