shewhomust (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shewhomust) wrote2023-01-28 12:27 pm
shewhomust) wrote2023-01-28 12:27 pm
A rude awakening
I was summoned from my bed just after eight this morning by the doorbell: it was the police. "Is that your car?" he asked.
Why, yes it is: the black one. But even without my glasses on, I could see that we had not left it like that, nose in the middle of the road, rear stoved in on the pavement, up close and personal with a blue car that I did not recognise:
I wokedurham_rambler and returned with my glasses on: now I could see that not only were the railings in front of the house all bent and twisted, but several of the blocks of stone in which they are set had been dislodged. Several cars have been dented, there's broken glass everywhere, an ambulance arrived to collect someone who had been injured. Our bedroom is at the back of the house, and we had slept through all the excitement.
The police say it wasn't anybody's fault, there was black ice on the road, it hadn't been gritted... You might ask why this steep downhill with the interesting corner hadn't been gritted, given that some sort of accident happens here every winter: especially since word got out that it's a way into town despite the road being closed at the top. Ah, well...
Sodurham_rambler has spent the entire morning on the phone to insurance people. You'd think that having a police incident number would avoid the need for him to relay all the detailsm but each person he spoke to seemed to want to hear it from him, just in case. I was reminded of the sletch (is it Monty Python?) in which people answering questions over the phone end up examoning their feet and giving their shoe size.
And I won't be collecting my new reading glasses from the optician this afternoon.
ETA: Further investigation reveals -
Why, yes it is: the black one. But even without my glasses on, I could see that we had not left it like that, nose in the middle of the road, rear stoved in on the pavement, up close and personal with a blue car that I did not recognise:
I woke
durham_rambler and returned with my glasses on: now I could see that not only were the railings in front of the house all bent and twisted, but several of the blocks of stone in which they are set had been dislodged. Several cars have been dented, there's broken glass everywhere, an ambulance arrived to collect someone who had been injured. Our bedroom is at the back of the house, and we had slept through all the excitement.The police say it wasn't anybody's fault, there was black ice on the road, it hadn't been gritted... You might ask why this steep downhill with the interesting corner hadn't been gritted, given that some sort of accident happens here every winter: especially since word got out that it's a way into town despite the road being closed at the top. Ah, well...
So
durham_rambler has spent the entire morning on the phone to insurance people. You'd think that having a police incident number would avoid the need for him to relay all the detailsm but each person he spoke to seemed to want to hear it from him, just in case. I was reminded of the sletch (is it Monty Python?) in which people answering questions over the phone end up examoning their feet and giving their shoe size.And I won't be collecting my new reading glasses from the optician this afternoon.
ETA: Further investigation reveals -
- The bad news: something (probably dislodged masonre) has also smashed a pane of glass in the kitchen door. This is marginally insecure, since the door leads onto a sunked area ('the area') not directly onto the street, but is distinctly chilly. Emergency repair is imminent.
- The good news: not only did the over-the-road neighbour (whose new people carrier was somewhat dented) see the whole thing, the dour student properties immediately downhill from us captured it on their doorbell cams. We learned this not from the resident students (duh!) but from the landlord's agent, despite her being in Budapest at the moment.
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