But the gritter man was very kind - he turned at the turning circle by the cottage and stopped. And he got out and fiddled at the back of the lorry and then slowly ambled back and climbed into his cab and drove away. A more productive fiddle is hard to imagine for he managed to leave a good pile of grit. Quick as a flash - maybe - I was out there with a shovel and wheel barrow - and managed to fill it with salty grit which I spread on our drive. Once more I confess to theft.
It was snowing heavily by now so I though it would be a good idea to get the van started and drive it up and down the drive a bit to grind the grit in and thus open the great passage. So I returned to the cottage and put the kettle on.
A few minutes later I battled through the snow clutching a hot water bottle wrapped in a carrier bag and I wedged this next to the van battery while I did the mid morning hay and water duties with the goats.
About an hour later I hopped into the van and turned the ignition.
Niet. De nada. Zilch. Bollocks.
So the van battery - despite Chris's magnificent efforts - is flat. Having got used to Chris's magnificent effort we've stopped parking the van at the top of a hill. So now we'll have to wait until we can get the car up the drive to jump start the van before we can contemplate getting our own hay. So a-cap in hand to neighbours we'll a-gander again shortly.
Now then... speaking of fiddling - cellist, harpist, guitarist, fiddlist?
* Even though it's an SNP council - haha -geddit?
2 comments:
Oh dear, it's tough up north it seems. Happy New Year!
Eeeeeh ooooh arrrrr aye! Cheers Nick - ahppy new year to you too!
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