A Night Visitor

 

We are renewing the drive that leads past the front of the house.

There is a hole about twenty metres long and thirty centimetres deep, where the drive used to be. Obviously, the builders, Rose, are very safety conscious, so they have coned off one end with some heavy road kerbs and parked a substantial digger at the other.

You'd think this would stop all accidents.

Wrong!

Look at these first pictures, where a White Van Man, decided that he wanted to get in front of our house to deliver a parcel to another address. We share a post code and the centroid is outside our house. Any normal person would have seen the digger, realised that the road was blocked off and drive round the stud buildings.

But not this intrepid White Van Man, who then drove across the grass and into the hole from the side at about six yesterday evening.

The first four pictures show his predicament.








We did try and tow him out with the Teleporter, but there wasn't really room to get the machine directly behind the van.


Eventually, he was pulled out by a specialist recovery firm and these last two pictures show the aftermath in the morning.




I bet White Van Man doesn't do anything as stupid again. Especially, as it was a rather cold night and he didn't seem to have a decent coat.

The only good thing, was that it was the day after Celia died and in a strange way, it gave me somewhere to vent my anger.

But I'd very much rather neither had happened.