Enforced stay at home.

I was getting ready for school this morning - frosty, but the roads were black - when Pat appeared, telling me to put on the kettle. She and another teacher from the school had set out for school, and came across a hellish bit of road at Peterburn. The ice was really thick, and the gritters had not appeared. Both turned back, and Pat very kindly came up to tell me not to bother.

Of course, the usual - phoned the school, only to be told that no-one else in the whole world had any bother at all coming into school; in fact, someone from Melvaig had managed. Makes you feel really inadequate.

So, Pat and I set out again at 10.30 and I was driving. When I got to Peterburn, I really tried to get up the hill, but the ice was hellish - I was definitely not in control of the car. I had to very gingerly reverse down the road inch by bloody inch. Tried again - same thing. Back home.

It turns out the school got it right; Peterburn is the only patch in the whole area with ice. There is nothing anywhere else.

Which begs the question - if the gritters weren't needed elsewhere, why could they not have gritted our wee patch?

Nice sunset, though!