Snowed in

So..., there I was, a week ago last Saturday, attempting to tidy up the house in eager anticipation of Georgie's arrival the following day, when down came the snow. Not much at first but just enough to get me worried. That downhill lane out of the hamlet blocks up easy. Then there'd be no chance of getting to Limoges airport to pick up Georgie. Checked a few websites and realised it was snowing in Blighty too. Maybe her flight would be cancelled. Things weren't looking good.

Luckily, it turned out okay. Georgie's flight wasn't cancelled and I made it to Limoges. Picked her up and headed back to the hills.

Just as we were about to ascend the steep hill towards the hamlet, Georgie remarked that the weather seemed to have cleared. At that very second (yes, that very second), the freezing snow blizzard started. Crawled up the long, zig-zaggy hill with wipers at full speed and headlights on dip - with full beam we couldn't see a thing. Eventually arrived home, re-lit the stoves, noshed at the neighbours', gave the dogs a quick walk in the blizzard and hoped it would clear by morning.

It didn't.

Monday dawned with a fresh covering of snow. Wasn't too deep so we were able to nip down to town and do some shopping then drive up the lightning tree area to walk the dogs. Climbed the hill, took a few snaps with my super-duper new camera (don't quite understand what all the knobs and buttons are for) then went home and prepared a massive stew in a couple of big pots. Halfway through cooking, we had a power cut. Rats! Fortunately we were cooking on the log-burning stove and not the electric cooker so we were able to complete and enjoy our slap-up nosh-up. No telly of course, and lighting by torches and candles. And, needless to say, no 'leccy blanket either. So out came the jolly old hot water bottle filled with the remnants of hot water from the boiler.

Tuesday dawned grey, dismal and freezing. Still snowing and still no electricity. With a foot of the white stuff outside, we were very definitely snowed in. Wasn't looking good. Poor old Georgie had to make a superhuman effort to get out of bed, it was that cold in the boudoir. I, on the other hand, being of considerably stockier build and far more used to the inclement meteorological conditions that currently prevailed, had meanwhile given the dogs a quick walk in the garden and bought in another dozen or so logs while wearing just a raggedy dressing gown and slippers. Yes, completely bonkers, but sometimes I can't be arsed to get dressed.

Wednesday, Thursday and Friday dawned much the same. By this time we were getting low on milk and stale bread. Would have had more bread but I kept chopping it up to feed the poor wee birdies. So a trip to town was called for. Dug out the car, cleared the driveway, tentatively headed off down the snow and ice-covered road to Felletin, arrived safely, stocked up and headed back. Don't know which is worse: going downhill on ice and snow or driving uphill. Seems they're both equally tricky. Luckily we didn't meet another car (or lorry!) coming in the other direction so we were able to stick to the two tyre grooves in the snow. Deviate from those tracks and it could spell disaster - sheer drops into the valley.

Saturday dawned cold and snowy as ever. By this time Georgie was having serious doubts about her return journey to Blighty. Flights to and from Limoges were being cancelled and the same was happening at UK airports. Checked the local weather forecast. Rainy and warm for Sunday and all next week. Hard to believe looking out the window. But, sure enough, Sunday dawned noticeably warmer. And the snow was indeed melting. Maybe Georgie would get back okay after all.

Monday dawned wet and warm. Hardly any snow. Checked the Limoges airport website. Flights were going ahead as normal so decided to make a run for it. Georgie had done her packing the night before so we left in good time. Arrived at the airport bang on time, had a quick coffee and made our farewells. Have to admit I'm no good at all this snogging in public so Georgie always thinks I'm just glad to see the back of her. Which I'm not. Far from it.

That 75 mile drive home alone is always a downer. Especially when I know she hasn't really had a good time. Not just because of the weather but also because I'm a useless conversationalist and, as Georgie rightly observed, I can appear a little stand offish at times; alone in my own little world. Although I joke about it, maybe, without realising, I have actually become that bohemian hermit recluse I'm always on about. It's a terrible thought. Things will have to change. Think I'll have to start talking to myself to improve my conversational skills. The neighbours, of course, will think I'm barking. Still, what's new.