Monthly Archives: January 2010
Wot I have learned in the new ice age.
That the weather forecasters are mainly wrong about the timing, the quantities and location of snowfall.
That BMWs spin their tyres a lot and that in these conditions the TinCanfromJapan is an effective conveyance. Snow chains – Honda Civic = you decide.
That a heated pitch does not a match in heaven make.
That not even the Poet Laureate can compose a 2010 snow poem without cliches, although she wrote one about a snowman prior to her Laureateship than I am quite keen on here.
“You don’t understand a word I’m saying, do you?”
I became completely obsessed with the weather and the forecast this week, practically to the point of excluding everything else in life. I had good reason, being due to travel extensively across the south of England for celebratory activities which have now, like so many, football matches, been postponed. If you have spent about a week monitoring the weather out of the window and checking various forecasts hourly it is hard to just stop and go cold turkey. Yesterday was my best day yet – a bit of obsessive checking in the morning and at night. This morning the tv/radio did not forecast sufficiently comprehensively for my full satisfaction so I have had to top up with a bit of online forecast too, although I am trying to leave the Met Office site alone now – for good.
I have heard a few reasons why we have the weather: one was Arctic Oscillation, another the slowing down to a great looping meander of the usually zippy jetstream. I have heard discussions about how national weather variance is nothing to do with global climate mean temperatures and I have also heard a discussion about probability, which of course made good sense to me as a punter.
It seems instead of saying we are not likely to have a cold winter, or a barbeque summer is nailed on, the forecasters, to cover their modesty, could say the above but then add – there is a 40% chance of rain today, or a 10% chance of snow and so on. Apparently they already do it in America.
Well if that’s the way forward you may just as well put the bookies in charge – they couldn’t make a worse job of it and as an additional bonus there would be endless weather markets to pass the snowbound time. In fact, if the market was left to decide, the weather forecasts would be more accurate, engender less angst (in me at any rate) and be a good deal more entertaining.
I fancied the King on his birthday, but I was over ruled by the girls.
Happy Birthday Little Sister x
an excerpt from the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ lyrics:
“Hey oh listen what I say oh
The more I see the less I know, the more I like to let it go…hey oh whoa
Deep beneath the cover of another perfect wonder
Where it’s so white as snow
Privately divided by a world so undecided
And there’s nowhere to go
In between the cover of another perfect wonder
Where it’s so white as snow
Running through the field where all my tracks
Will be concealed and there is nowhere to go”
We hope here in Southend where we have no field that A-M and EP (aka LS & DHC) will oblige us by running in theirs and sing the song…
When my mum and I visited the Maharaja exhibition at the V&A last year (finishes on the 17th January 2010), I was pleased to find that my bathroom looked not unlike the original drawings for this art deco splendour. In fact, I have been more faithful to the original sketches, this one having strayed into unnecessary opulence and very slippery (dangerous) marble floors.
Our Great Bathroom Floor Debate has taken the place of the Great Shower Enclosure Hunt which was epic, lasting about eighteen months. Sale time is a good opportunity to get these things resolved, so fingers crossed for 10% off day at Homebase this weekend…
I am sure the Maharaja did not have cut his cloth in this fashion.
Was not Elvis, but we watched some of his black leather period last night with the 7 yo. She was primarily concerned with his sweatiness. I wondered how the hell they got away with such dodgy musical arrangements and if the King was trialling a prototype for St Tropez. Mick had left the building.
WARNING: This blog is a resolution-free zone
We used to live a stone’s throw from all this. This stadium is pretty much on the site of the old Hackney Wick dog track and there is another, larger one, visible towards Stratford. In a way it would have been nice to stay amongst all the excitement, but imagine the dust.
The goose lunch was superb (not greasy at all 😉 ) and most restorative. Thank you!