Snow shoes and dog galoshes

It has snowed all week here, the lanes are blocked and my house has a good 2 feet of snow on my roof, if the snow stays off this afternoon l think l had better get the step ladder out and sweep the stuff off.

Listening to the wireless, l hear that schools and businesses closed due this inclement weather. I can't remember this happening in 1947, everything ran, not always on time, but ran none the less, l wonder if this is a different sort of snow perhaps to that of the 1940's? It is with some luck that l have manged to get out and about with reasonable ease. In my youth l enjoyed skiing in the alps, visiting Wengen on an annual basis, staying in a chalet not far from the railway station. I can't really remember the Swiss infrastructure grinding to a halt back then due to heavy snow fall? No, l haven't had my old skis out but 2nd husband's father had been on an expedition to Antarctica in the early part of the last century and along with his body, preserved in brandy, also returned to his family was a nearly new set of snowshoes, large tennis racket-styled footwear, and dog galoshes, so you see Boy and myself have been walking in the countryside in relative ease.

It was on our walk yesterday that l noticed and pointed out to Boy that there was a string of flapping yellow planning notifications attached to not only the gatehouse of Longshort Manor but also to the gates themselves. I did notice in a comment from that very nice sounding young lady in the South of France warning me about electric gates and such like, well, l did get a little radgy at the thought of hideous monster of a gate, so on my return to the cottage l put my newly found internet skills into use to checkout the county's planning application website.

The yellow notices have not gone unnoticed in the village either, over hot chocolate and sloe gin this morning in the post office we all sat around the gloriously warm stove and discussed the manor and its new owners. We all agreed that no one had as yet moved in but the web site did reveal the plans that were being laid for the Manor's development. Planning applications had been received, l informed everyone, for a large barn which would included stabling for 60 horses and indoor arena suitable for polo, applications included helicopter pad, and change of use from agricultural land to that of amenity land. I can tell you that as we all sipped our steaming hot drinks in silence cogitating. It was interesting when eventually we all found our voices, Old Blaster thought it a good idea as there might be a job available for him, especially as he used to be a horse lad before the war, Monks just sucked on his pipe and shook his head. Mixed opinions then, l suppose that we will just have to wait and see what happens next then.

Village life despite the blanketing of snow has continued pretty much the same, we had another death this week, on Monday old Mrs Fidge died whilst visiting the outside privy during the night, apparently her neighbour, Miss Knox, found her sitting, frozen upright on the lavatory reading a back issue of Peoples Friend. The undertakers had a difficult job getting her into the hearse. I was relieved to hear that, after the postmortem, it was discovered that she had died following a massive heart attack and would not have suffered. Zap and she was gone. I think it would have been truly awful to think that she might have died after becoming frozen to the toilet seat her cries for help falling on deaf ears.