Tuesday 27th February 2018

I lost my voice.

Coupled with chesty cough, sneezing, etc, I thought it best go to the local hospital to get checked out.

This meant I needed the car, so would have to take Jools to Hythe, then drive to Ashford afterwards. as that is where the A&E is now.

Amazingly, no further snow had fallen during the night, but it was cold. So cold, for the rest of the week we would leave the heating on all night. The thermostat seemed to suggest it was five degrees in the house.

At quarter to seven, after coffee and getting dressed we were off, very little show about in the village; maybe the forecast got it all wrong.

Soon became clear as we left Dover on the A20, as snow began to be seen, and by the time we got to Folkestone there was a good few inches. In fact, towards Hythe the road was barely passable, and we inched our way along the lane over the down and into the town. At the factory there was a group of people and it was decided to send all no critical staff home and work via VPN from home. All well, so we would just call into Ashford hospital get me checked out and all would be well?

No.

All was well until shortly after pulling onto the motorway, in fairly heavy snow showers all three lanes ground to a halt, and there we stayed for a good hour or two. At least we had the radio and the enough fuel to have the engine running. We got off at Ashford, and with traffic in all directions we fought our way round the roundabout and headed back on to the motorway back eastwards.

We got home at just before one, it took Jools and her IT manager half an hour to get her laptop going, but for me, I was pooped, laid on the sofa as I listened to Jools boss her suppliers round.

The days passes into evening. Despite all the white stuff everywhere else in the county, St Maggies had seen nary a flurry, and that was the case through the day. What little there had been had melted. Just before dusk another flurry made the garden and drive white again, I mean the depth was hardly measurable to be honest, but it was the thought that counted.

There was football on TV; Swansea v Sheffield Wednesday; two clubs playing weakened teams in front of a quarter full stadium covered on prime time national TV, not the best advert for the oldest football competition in the world, is it? And it was a poor game, Swansea running out 2-0 winners as I struggle to stay awake on the sofa, Jools had given up and gone to bed already.

Anyway, work on the morrow...