On Weather, Woes and Whimsy.

I’m generally an avid watcher of the weather forecast, ever since the photography days when my work decisions had to be based on them. Not at the moment, though. I’m sick of hearing forecasters apologising:

‘Sorry: more of the same, I’m afraid. Strong winds, rain, floods, dangerously high tides… and anybody with a rickety old greenhouse should start worrying now.’

What’s the point? I’ve done what I can to shore up the greenhouse roof; the potential for being proactive is spent.

It was very windy when I went out for a walk tonight. Fortunately the rain was light, but on the way back the whistling stopped and a new, thundering sort of noise started. I soon realised it was the wind getting up even more and roaring through the branches of the trees which surround the Old Rectory.

And I’m highly reactive to weather conditions, you know. The wrong sort can plunge me into a slimy, subterranean place, whereas the right sort can lift me up to the level of the birds’ nests, there to consort merrily with the cutesy little chicks.

‘Ere! Who are you? You’re not a cuckoo, are you?’

‘No.’

‘Well, what are you then?’

‘A human.’

‘What’s one o’ them when it’s at home?’

‘We’re those creatures who walk around on two legs, down there.’

‘Yeeerghhhh! Mum! Dad! Where are you? There’s a big human thing in our nest! (Pause for much staring.) Have you got any food?’

‘Erm… no.’

‘Well bugger off, then. You’re too big.’

At which point the mother bird flies in and tries to force a live earthworm into my mouth.

‘OK. I’m going.’

I dislike winter. It gives me cabin fever, and makes my woes seem all the more woeful.

Still, I went out today to try and get a couple of winter-weight shirts to replace the one with hardly any collar left, and the flannel one that’s unaccountably shrunk in the wash. I was unsuccessful, but what I did find in the cheap shop were bottles of Huber Premium Beer from the second oldest brewery in the US, no less. That’s what it says on the bottle. They were attractively cheap, so I got one for tonight’s treat. I’m not expecting a visitor tonight. (Mind you, I wasn’t expecting a visitor last night.)

I sent Mel a text message with my news earlier. Her reply was:

:-0

I assume that’s meant to express shock. I wish people would just use words.