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No business like snow business

Post made it through today for the first time since Monday. Our neighbour who works for Royal Mail as a manager walked to the next village to collect bags of post. He is now walking round the village doing his own deliveries. I'm impressed!

Admittedly, and contrary to all the 'OMG it has snowed, businesses will collapse!' coverage on the news, there was nothing in any way important in the post. Two calendars (1 rescue greyhound, 1 rescue cat) a bank statement that could be checked online anyway, and a glossy and pointless communication from Business Link (does Business Link actually send *any* mail that doesn't contain the blatently obvious...?)

Our village was ploughed and gritted yesterday 'in the Cornish manner' - ie, someone 'borrowed' a snow plough, gritter and grit that were officially supposed to be going somewhere else, apparently. I'm going to see if I can get the car out in a bit as we are starting to get low on dog food. We'll be OK till next week, but if it snows again on Sun as forecast, it might be a little inconvenient.

This afternoon while walking the hounds, we met a villager 'gathering winter fuuuuuuoooooooooeeeel'.  Specifically, he was carrying a section of a small tree about 8 feet tall.  "Waste not want not!" he merrily told us and then "If you find it, it's yours".  This is the spirit that covered Cornwall in a thousand new decks and sheds a few years back when a timber ship went ashore.

Updated later in the day because yet another snow post seemed like one too many! :
I ventured to the Coop in my brave old Saab.  True to her Swedish origins, she started first time despite the cold, even though she had solid ice half an inch thick right down one side and icicles almost 3 inches long hanging from her underside.   She struggled a little on the ice, but got me through. 

The Coop was well stocked, but packed with people 'stocking up'. Cries of 'get some anyway, it'll keep' and ' I can freeze that' echoed down the aisles, and the tinned stuff section was heaving.   The shelves were emptying, apart from the salad section which was bulging with unwanted salads. 

Someone tried to sell me a lurcher puppy in the pet shop.  He'd bred a litter of 4, sold 2 and now the other 2 are 5 months old and oh dear, nobody wants to buy them and they are getting big and energetic and need lots of time and attention that he hasn't got and are costing lots to look after, etc, etc.

I failed to say all the things that I meant to, like 'do you know that at least 8,000 unwanted dogs get put to sleep in the UK every year, most of them bred by idiots like you' and 'what made you think people would want to buy  these random mixed breed dogs' and 'yes of course they got big and need lots of attention! What did you think was going to happen!'

But I didn't.  I wimped out.  Partly cos the pet shop owner was looking pleadingly at me not to start a fight in her petshop, but mostly because I am a wuss.  They were very pretty puppies, blue merle collie x greyhound.  I hope they will be OK :-(

Tara's adopters are suppose to be picking her up tomorrow: not sure if that is going to happen or not at the mo.

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