Happy days are here again!

Not really, that title was a total lie but it made me think for a second of sunny skies and the kind of warmth that seeps in to your bones and just makes everything alright with the world. If I just use a bit more imagination I can pretend that I’m in the Caribbean. I might help the process along by sticking some merengue music on and pouring myself a nice large Morgan’s Spiced Rum.  By the time Boofuls gets home I could be swinging from the ceiling!

Thanks for your lovely comments while I was feeling sorry for myself. They really did make a difference and I’m nearly over it now. By nearly over it I mean I’ve stopped crying.

Things picked up fairly quickly yesterday afternoon. Not least because we had a dance lesson for the first time since teacher became ill in December. Isn’t it funny how you don’t realise how much you’ve missed something until it’s back. It wasn’t Teacher teaching us, he’s still far too poorly, it was his business partner, Lottie. It felt a bit strange having a different teacher but we soon all settled down. A quick brush up on a few waltz steps and a run through of the paso doble went a long way to restoring my spirits.

First thing this morning I had to drop my car off for yet another major operation just to get it to a point where it’s good enough to sell on. So after another cold and frosty night I scraped all the ice off the windscreen and set off on my to way to drop it off at the garage and then walk to my friend’s house to meet up for our weekly Weight Watchers weigh in. Apart from a small detour to the studio to drop off some stuff, that was pretty much the plan for this morning.  The car park at the studio is a bit icy at the moment. Not icy as in a ‘Watch your step, it’s a bit icy’,  kind of way. It’s more of a ‘Grab your skates and let’s put on our own Dancing on Ice show’, kind of way. I’ve seen quite a few people over the last few days use a bit of nifty footwork in order to stay upright on that car park, including me.

Just as I was leaving the studio it started to rain. The rain hit the icy ground, the icy car, the icy windows and instantly froze. The rain was even freezing as it hit the windscreen of the car and turning it into a nice frosted window, handy if you’re in a bathroom, not so handy if you’re driving a car. I had to stop every few hundred yards to clear it away until the heater kicked in enough to clear it.

The car was dropped off at the garage with instructions to phone me when it was ready and then, safe in the knowledge that I was properly dressed for the occasion in my walking boots and thick wooly socks ( as well as a few other items, not juts boots and socks. What do you think I am, some kind of weirdo? Ew!)   I set off  to bezzie mates, walking with my usual brisk ‘ don’t mess with me, weather, I’m a fell walker’ gait.

Five minutes into the walk;

SPLAT!

Down I went on the icy pavement, sprawled on the floor like a tortoise stuck on it’s back.

Now,  in this situation there is a tried and trusted series of events that must be followed – and I followed them to the letter.

1. Lie winded on the ground for a moment wondering what the hell just happened while mentally determining if any bones have been broken or vertebrae thrown out of alignment. Check.

2. Look around quickly to establish that no one saw you fall. Check

N.B. Items No. 1 and 2 are interchangeable.

3. Leap  to your feet (Ok, it was more of a slippery, slidy, ungainly scramble to my feet using both hands and knees but it still counts.) Check.

4. Continue on your way as if nothing had happened, ignoring the stinging in whatever parts of your body hit the ground and trying not to limp/cry/rant at the unfairness of life.  Check.

To be honest, people were falling over like nine pins. The main problem being that the streets looked wet, not icy. Cars were skating round all over the place, it was a bit like a three ring circus in the town centre.  I saw traffic officers turn up to guide cars unable to stop going down the hills safely onto the main roads and I saw more than one person clinging to a lamp post too frightened to let go. You don’t feel quite so foolish when just about everyone is throwing themselves onto the ground with wild abandon.

Bezzie mate and me met up for Weightwatchers. I’m not talking about that bit because I’m just too narked. Why can’t I be a natural size 10, dammit? Half a pound indeed. At this rate it’ll be *counts on fingers and toes*……a bloody long time till I’m a size 10!

After Weightwatchers I  picked the car back up  and made my way home.

Slowly.

Very, very slowly.

The track down to our house isn’t so much a road as a bobsleigh run at the moment. Even the bits that don’t look frozen are frozen solid. That was an exciting journey!

WEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!

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Icy track

The highlight of the day so far though has to be when I let the cat out of the back door. He ran out , skidded sideways on the ice and then tried and failed to regain his footing, running on the spot like a cartoon character before slithering off with his little  legs going ten to the dozen,  howling like a banshee. Was it too cruel of me to laugh?

I would go down to the barn to get the bag of salt and grit that I know we have stored in there for when we need to to de-ice the path – but I can’t get down to the barn because it’s just too icy and dangerous. Which means that it’s too dangerous to make it safe.

You have to love winter. Where’s the spiced rum?

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