So. Nice weather we've been having.
It snowed on Monday. Which was neat. And then it all melted on Tuesday. Which was okay. And it's been cold, and blah blah blah.
But they've been predicting more snow. And last night it hit. And it made me stupid.
See, all day I'd been thinking, "I should go to Tesco, just in case, and get some things." But it was cold, and I was lazy, and our Tesco is always a nightmare; it seems to be some sort of vortex, wherein people are drawn to stop still in the middle of the aisles and push their carts at an angle across them, and stare at the ceiling with their mouths open. Perhaps they're receiving celestial messages of some kind? Or there are things written up there, which only English people can see? I don't know. What I do know is they clot the aisles like horse manure on a country road; couple that with the Tesco employees who are constantly stocking the shelves--usually whatever it is I need, they've positioned their big forklift-esque shelving units in front of--and it's just a huge pain.
So last night, around 9:30, hubs went outside for a smoke and called me out to see. It was snowing.
"Hmm," said I. "Maybe I should go to Tesco after all."
We debated it. We weren't sure the snow was going to stick. We gave it a few minutes.
And around ten to ten I decided the snow was in fact starting to stick, and I should go ahead and go.
At first I thought perhaps it was salt or something making the street in fron of my glow a little. No. It was snow starting to collect. This happened FAST, guys; it started at 9:30 and at this point, twenty minutes later, I was rolling over white patches on the road.
Then the guy in front of me hit his brakes too hard and spun out into the roundabout.
I decided at that point just to go back home. But to get there I had to go essentially around the town, on hilly, dark, winding roads. It was freaking terrifying.
There is something about driving in heavy snow like that, with no streetlights, that makes you feel totally and completely alone. I am a great driver. Seriously. And I love to drive. And I've driven in snow before; I learned to drive in snow. Butthat was in the suburbs and the city, not in a rural area; that was in a place with plenty of traffic, with signs of life everywhere. There were no signs of life anywhere least night; the snow was thich enough that I couldn't even see lights from the few homes in that area.
I was shaking, literally shaking, as I made my way home through the darkness. The lanes are narrow; the lines unreflective. With snow obscuring everything I could only use the bushes on the side of the road as guides; I was at the top of a hill, unable to see anything on the other side of the bushes. I pictured tapping the brakes and hitting ice; I pictured sliding off the road into a ditch, or worse, down the side of the hill. I pictured myself trying in vain to find a place to seek shelter. I pictured calling the hubs on my cell and wondering how in the world someone would be able to come rescue me.
This is how bad it was: I turned the radio off.
This is how bad it was: by the time I got back into town, almost an inch of snow covered the street.
I got home at ten past ten. Twenty minutes, was all I'd been gone.
Truly terrifying. I got home and checked the news online--the snow knowcked out our satellite tv--and found that the M5, which is only a few miles away from us, had been closed, as had several other, smaller roads near us. Closed. Because of the snow.
So that was my evening. But the snow is melting today and the roads are clear, and in an hour or so I'm going to head out to the store and get those things after all. Sigh.