et again nemesis has smothered my hubris. Having boasted of my expertise in getting the car up our steep, icy track, I awoke to find myself snowed in, near the top of a glacier, totally cut off from all traffic. A nephew and his wife, who were coming to lunch, had to abandon their car down on the shore and walk up the track. Fortunately, I had no important car journeys pending, and during that week of semi-isolation Cronie and I set off from the house after breakfast every morning and took two hours to slide along the ice to the village shop, get the paper, and slide back home again. Add to that at
