Tonight, as snow falls across Scotland, we were supposed to head on out there for the Borders Search and Rescue Unit Christmas dinner in Kelso, which is never held at Christmas, nor at New Year, but instead on some arbitrary chosen date.
After rushing back from an all day meeting in Edinburgh, I arrived home just as the snow was beginning in earnest. I was told in no uncertain terms that 'it's not really snowing, so it's on', but then just as I'd done my hair (rather brilliantly for once I have to say), I looked out the window to see large snow flakes flustering about in the wind. The road outside the house went white. 'Are you sure we're going?' I asked. 'Yes' was the answer.
A few moments later I said, 'Are you really sure?' 'Well no... let me check.'
Within minutes we went from going to not going.
And within minutes of that the guilt set in. If everyone else was going to make it were we that soft that a bit of snow scared us off? I've been assured by Mountain Man that I don't need to feel guilty, but I'm afraid that doesn't help much.
The only thing I do know is, that I don't want to spend the night stuck in the snow on the road to Kelso waiting to be rescued by the Search and Rescue folk... no sirree... a bit of guilt will have to do!
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