Three Words for Snow

The eskimos apparently have over a hundred words for snow - today I had three fuck shit bugger, pardon my Inuit.

Set off for the Borders a bit nervous from my mother's doom warnings and gallusly hit the Moorfoot moor road. The clue was there, it's a moor. So first, I did the most spectacular triple skid in a side to side zig zag, nearly gave a sheep a cornary but thankfully inherited my father's rallying skills and manoevured away from mutton for tea, though not without my knees turning to jelly. Progressed slowly but valiantly onward in a blizzard with zero visibility only to meet a speedy Tesco van coming in the opposite direction. Either he didn't see me or he thought he was Waitrose but basically drove me off the road into a shallow field ditch and disappeared with not a backward glance.
Now, stuck in a snowy ditch alone and in a posh frock and heels, that's when you wish you were a bloke. I pondered whatoneearthtodo....normally I throw the girl card up but there was nowt but a pheasant to see. Humph, I laid the card down and slowly rocked the car forward and backward until 20 minutes later I got myself out, just as a bloke in a tractor turned up to help. PAH men, who needs them!

The rest of the day was uneventful, no snow in the Borders except on the hill caps so was deeply disappointed not to get my snowy Borders Blip I had intended. Consoled my self with a bowl of spicy parsnip soup at Main St St B's with added gossip from my mum and a wee bit of extra Christmas shopping too.

Home, snow gone, boo :(