Last night was Love Daddy practice night, so Daddy Simon, our guitarist and I headed off with our singer, Cookie, to John the Drums' place in a neighbouring village, where we rehearse in the Love Daddies Jamming Room, a sound insulated space in the downstairs of a converted barn.
We've been writing and rehearsing new material for a gig we're doing in a couple of weeks.
As the evening drew on, one of the new tunes wasn't working quite right, so we stopped for cup of tea. It's not very rock and roll I know, but we're all old men.
Upon emerging from the Room of Rock into the real world outside, we discovered the snow had been coming down and that already a good blanket had settled. There are no windows in the jam room and when we're in there we're in our own little Love Daddy world. We realised that we needed to head home. In retrospect, we should have stayed there.
As we headed off into the wilderness of the Devon countryside, it became increasingly apparent that getting home was going to be very difficult. Cookie took the wise decision that we should head for the main road, so we slipped and slid our way there.
The snow got heavier. The main road was disappearing fast beneath a layer of snow and we slid sideways past a number of cars that were stuck, with their wheels spinning, standing still. What to do? There was no point in stopping to try and help, we'd have been stuck too, so with some very scary, but skilled driving from Cookie, we persevered until we reached the ancient bridge at Bickleigh where there are two pubs, The Fisherman's Cot and The Trout.
We first went to The Cot as we knew that they have a lot of rooms there and it had become clear by now that we were not going to make it home.
Would you let these three wise men across your threshold in the middle of the night in a blizzard? Well the jobsworth manager at the snobby Fisherman's Cot wouldn't and in spite of our pleas, turned us back out into the blizzard. I'll not be using that establishment again.
What has become of humanity? I blame Thatcher and television. We Daddies just spread the word of Love.
So we abandoned the car and walked along the road to The Trout Inn, where we were welcomed by the barman and barmaid, who were oblivious to the deteriorating conditions outside. They realised at this stage that they too were stuck and called the owner down from his quarters upstairs. Understanding our desperate plight, he agreed that we could share a room for £10 each for the night. What a top man, I'll be dropping off a little pottery something to him during the next few days.
So after a few drinks in the bar with the stranded staff, we headed to our room, where Simon and I agreed to share the double bed.......
.....allowing Cookie the single (which he shared with a glass of ale) on account of his heroic driving. It was a brilliant bit of driving too, well done Cookie, I'm glad we went in his car, I couldn't have kept my cool had I have been driving.
The situation was all a bit too much like Planes, Trains and Automobiles for my liking. Both Daddy Si and Cookie snored really badly, so it was a fairly sleepless night.
This morning we hit the road again and struggled back to our homes, where there was no electricity as the power lines were down. The snowploughs had been out, but the cars that had skidded to a halt in front of us last night on the most exposed part of the main road, were still there. Well done Cookie for saving us from a freezing night, stuck in a car like many folk in this area experienced.
Snowed in at a pub - ha, likely story.