Well here we are in February and up here on Walton’s Mountain we still have an abundance of snow. While the council has saw fit to plough and grit some roads to our hillock on high, they have of course omitted to scoop up the white stuff on mine. Ergo to get to normal safe-t0-drive-on road you have to traverse the ice fields that have my little car skittering and me clinging on like grim death.
I suppose this is an improvement of sorts as with the last snowfall two weeks ago we had no way off the hill at all. That was when I played my trump card in the driving stakes. Oh yes dear reader I was a prepared person – I had snow socks for my little car.
Well I played safe and watched a YouTube video on how to apply them to your vehicle. There was this ravishing young lady with miles of blonde hair, a furry hat, high heeled boots and a big smile. She had no trouble at all getting these white plasticy bag things to fit round the wheels.
Sorted – I can do that.
Surprisingly enough I could. I set off carefully and was really rather chuffed at myself for doing this. Onwards till I got to the village where the snow plough had made real roads and there was real traffic about. I stop and try to remove the snow socks before leaving the snowy area. Now I can tell you why they don’t have some blond bimbo demonstrating the removal of nasty wet snow socks that are well and truly clinging to the bloody wheels.
There was a nasty whiney sound and I am ashamed to say it was coming from me. So was the bleating and the swearing, especially when I realised I had completely ruined my gloves and broken two nails.
Snow socks successfully removed and chucked in boot I carried on in my merry quest to get to Glasgow.
All goes well until I return to the mountains we fondly call home. On the edge of the snowy landscape I know I am going to have to put the snow socks on again. Now the airy, fairy little airhead on the YouTube video certainly didn’t show you how to deal with nasty wet muddy snow socks and try to get the damn things back on when it feels like they have shrunk and I have lost the will to live.
A fifteen minute struggle ensues. The sky gets darker and the anxiety builds. I get one on and the other completely refuses to play the game at all.
Make a stab at creeping and sliding along the lane. It is getting dark and of course nobody about. The journey that normally takes 5 minutes takes an almost endless 25 minutes as I slide gracefully into drifts, stagger out and slither onwards.
Got home and left the bloody snow sock on to remove another day. They are ripped and hopeless and a total waste of money. This time when the snow started to fall in earnest last week I looked out and admired the garage door, thinking ‘That’ll stay shut till this snow goes’.
So we have been walking and sledging and holed up by the fire. As I write the sun is shining but the ground is still solid with ice and snow.
Hangin’ in there!