All White on the Night
When I awoke this morning, the snow was deep. And crisp. And even.
I scraped the snow off the car, carefully cleared a stretch of driveway (yes, I admit it, I have a driveway, but it doesn't make me posh) and edged my way slowly up the road toward the motorway.
To avoid a repeat of last year's 'Stuck in the snow 20 yards from my house' fiasco, I threw the snow shovel in the back of the car. Super Safety Stark, always thinking ahead. I should have been a Mountie. If I lived in Canada and wasn't allergic to horses.
By the time I arrived at work in Big City, the sun was shining, there wasn't a drop of snow to be seen.
A colleague looked at the back seat of my car and spotted the snow shovel.
"Not an optimist, are you?"
I scraped the snow off the car, carefully cleared a stretch of driveway (yes, I admit it, I have a driveway, but it doesn't make me posh) and edged my way slowly up the road toward the motorway.
To avoid a repeat of last year's 'Stuck in the snow 20 yards from my house' fiasco, I threw the snow shovel in the back of the car. Super Safety Stark, always thinking ahead. I should have been a Mountie. If I lived in Canada and wasn't allergic to horses.
By the time I arrived at work in Big City, the sun was shining, there wasn't a drop of snow to be seen.
A colleague looked at the back seat of my car and spotted the snow shovel.
"Not an optimist, are you?"
posted by St8rk at
4:57 pm
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