Tuesday January 13, 1987

Granary Cottage, Bradley Burn, Wolsingham, Bishop Auckland

I went out snow shovelling this morning. Will we be able to make it to Wolsingham? The relief managers came, named Golding & Jones, from Birmingham. Golding & Jones? Sounds like a Tamla Motown  singing duo. The are not married. Does Humphrey Smith know they are living in sin? He is bearded and fat. She has peroxide hair and looks shifty. Poor Moorhouse. The stock taker, Crump, a cold, odd man, brought no machine with him and so we left at 1pm without a stock result. I will not worry, but I would have preferred to leave with a result. Heavy snow. A precarious journey north. Up the A1, which was clear of snow, and we turned off at Piecebridge, where the road became steadily worse. Ally wanted to drive and I was in the back clutching a snoring Clementine. Sam, watching from his car seat, became perturbed and was was convinced we were going to collide with another car. Our drive took us to West Auckland and past Raby Castle. All new scenery to me. Treacherous conditions when we arrived at Wolsingham. A Mrs Stephenson was waiting for us showering great praise on Ally's motoring prowess. Later, the road leading to Alston, was closed. Our place, Granary Cottage, is a converted granary (surely not?), and looks better from the outside. It's too 'new'. A real coal fire though. The bedrooms are no bigger than cupboards, but oh the peace and quiet. Ecstasy. A night watching the snow fall, bathing the children, sipping whisky and watching TV. Wednesday was similar.

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