Today

First frost of the year this week. My car's rear screen de-icer chose this week also to pack up, but never mind, all fixed now.

We went out last night to an Avon Ambulanceperson's reunion. Paul's bash, so, in conformity with tradition, I drove. Slippery little journey along Burrington Coombe.

In My Day

I learnt to drive relatively late, at the age of 37. Although I did have some proper lessons, it was really Paul who taught me in our Morris Marina. I passed my test on a Monday in October; on the following Sunday I was driving, on my own, late at night along the M27.

As winter loomed, Paul said to me "I must take you out to an empty carpark one frosty Sunday so that you can learn how to handle a skid." Bearing in mind the Marina's total lack of road handling, this seemed like a good idea.

One very frosty morning after our move to Southampton, I had to set off very early to carry out some training in Bexhill. There'd been rain, then a sudden clearing, so plenty of frost. M27 again, then A27. On the Chichester bypass a light freezing fog descended. I could see enough to know that, if I stayed in the inside lane, I'd shortly be stuck behind a lot of lorries, so I pulled out into the deserted outside lane. Suddenly the car was all over the road, back end wiggling like that frightful Renault Megane ad. If I close my eyes I can still see the way the view kept changing. I don't know whether I actually controlled the skid, but at least I didn't do foolish things like jam on the brakes.

After what appeared to be ages the car (let's face it, it wasn't down to my skill) straightened up, still well behind the lorries. It was only later that my legs started trembling.

Later I phoned Paul. "You know you were going to show me how to handle a skid?" I said "well, I've done it!"

If I could cope in a Marina, frost in a Toyota holds no terrors.