And Then, So It Goes On…

   Well, so, contrary to all the, like, ‘news’ recently, we didn’t boil to death during the early summer warm spell.
I believe the media have been missing a trick regards ‘reporting’ the weather. I’m sure y’all of an age will have noticed that when ‘reporting’ rain storms it’s always stated to expect up to 40, mumble, of rainfall with the mumble being millimetres wot’s so much more of a scary number than 4cm or a tad over an inch and a half. So why, to truly, like, terrify the younger, wasn’t the recent warm weather temperatures stated as 93 degrees followed by a low mumbled Fahrenheit rather than highs of 34 degrees Centigrade? How much more scary would that, like, be then eh? 
   Anyhoo, the new headlines seem to be centred on the huge number of youths not in work and that the grubbyment should step up and help. Wot jobs are there these daze? Fast food delivery? Oh, those jobs go to gimmigrants. Work in local mini-marts? Oh, those jobs go to gimmigrants as well, right? And thanks to Eddy Silly-band, power hungry industries are moving out fast although there may still be a chance of work in one if you can handle the daily commute to China...
   But if the present system had been in place when some of us old folk left school it’d have been a hard choice; Me? Join first ship just before 16^th birthday to work long hours every day for a year or more before getting a couple or three weeks paid leave. All for £15 a month. 
   Peddle forward a phew years; leave school and apply for benefits and sit at home playing on your - not cheap - ‘smart’ phone using the - not cheap - mega data plan. Want a place of your own? The benny barn is there to help with the deposit and rent. Want a rise? Get that girl you know wot’s also on benefits to leave home and move in with you thus securing double bubble bennies. You both need to upgrade to the latest ‘smart’ phones? Have a bubby or two and watch the bennies boom.
   Hay, look, there’s a job vacancy just down the road! Errrrrr, no thanks, after tax an’ such, it’ll end up paying a tad less than wot I, like, get for spending all day sitting on the sofa ‘smart’ phone surfing...
   There’s talk of making job vacancies only, like, open to Brit kids But that’ll just transfer who gets a wage and who’s in the benny barn will it not? Dear Steer Calmer and Rack-It-Up-Rachel, please consider my cunning and simple idea to stimulate growth. Sadly, that’ll also need silly Eddy mini brain being put out to pasture. No loss there then, eh?

Quote: Sarah Brown.

"The only thing that ever sat its way to success was a hen."

And Then, Sorry…

   ...for pinching this from the comments over at Going Postal yesterday but I just couldn’t help myself. Apologies to all concerned - especially the originator; a classic.
   Is this not a perfect sum up of wot we’re up against right now or wot? 

              

Quote; Jerome K. Jerome.                

“The weather is like the government, always in the wrong.”

And Then, Still Here…

   Wot the hell happened? All I did is blink and the first half of this year is now history. I really must learn to control that blinking blinking thingy.
   Anyhoo, it seems more folk will get the winter fuel allowance this coming winter; of course they will as more gimmigrants are arriving every day all entitled{?} to totally free gas and lekky in their four star digs, right?
As for the old folk, wot’s the betting they’ll take it back - plus a bit - via tax. Yet more money laundering eh
   Typing of which, I see our wondrous goofyment have stated that the huge increase in rubber boat arrivals of our newest bestest ever friends is purely down the good weather. That being the case I guess wot we need is a goodly long spell of right bad weather. Oh, should that be far right bad weather?

Quote; Jerome K. Jerome.

“The weather is like the government, always in the wrong.”

And Then Bad Weather…

   Awoke this morning and noticed it was raining so I stuck my hand out the door and caught a phew drops for closer examination and, as expected it was just clear liquid and not the scary amber colour predicted by various weather forecasts.
   With the chance of a little snow on the horizon my mind did one of its time travel thingies and I ended up back in primary school, aged about seven and with further head clicking that triggered an old post copied and paster below.
Note this was my primary school memories so the cloths worn were uniform comprising short trousers for the boys and a dress for girls. And we survived...

   This is an awful long time ago, let me tell you. I remembered the times happily walking to school through the overnight snow, then all of us kids sitting in the classroom just waiting for playtime so’s we could get back out into it. Back out into it? Like we had a choice? Back then the weather had to be bad on Biblical proportions before we were allowed to stay indoors. Remember?
   At playtime, somehow, natural selection kicked in and within seconds of being out in the snow, two groups had formed, a defensive group and an attacking group. Again, within seconds the defenders were busy rolling and pushing snow to construct a ‘U’ shaped redoubt. ‘U’ shaped? Of course. Open at the back to facilitate a quick and unobstructed escape should the need arise.
   This group sub-divided to form redoubt constructors and ammunition makers with a further ammunition maker sub-group of ruffy tuffy kids secreting stones in their snowballs. Bless 'em.
   The attacking group were similarly manufacturing ammunition while a small sub-group was involved with formulating redoubt attacking tactics along the lines of, “We’ll charge now then.”
   Soon battle was joined and the air was filled with flying snowballs, small, and not so small, stones, kids wild screams and, occasionally, from far away, the voice of a teacher reminding us to be careful. Yeah, right.
   Eventually it was close quarters combat. At this time, with ammunition low and not a snowball in hells chance of making a snowball, scratching, biting, a bit o’ hitting an' kicking was used with no mercy shown by either side. Alarmingly, the girls seemed to be the fiercest close quarter fighters.
   All too soon the whistle went and back inside we trooped nursing various scratches, cuts, nose bleeds and the occasional loose tooth, grinning from ear to ear, to wait for the lunch hour when battle would be rejoined, spookily, from exactly where it left off at playtime.
   And teachers reactions when viewing the wet, bedraggled, bleeding, battered, grinning bunch of kids before them? “Who won then? Looks to me like you all lost. Right, what's next? **Ah, here we are, Health and Safety then Global Warming.”
   That was then. Do they still get to do that stuff now? No? Well, I’m so surprised you could knock me down with a stone loaded snowball.
**That bits made up by the way.

Addendumadodad; and now? Cold snap and the NHS, blessed be its name, are advising one and all not to venture out early morning or night time. Oh how well we’re evolving.

Quote; Gary D. Schmidt.

"The light made the snowballs look yellow. Or at least I hoped that was the cause.”

And Then Windy…

   Nothing to see here, sama-sama with the world wot’s gone mad.
   Anyhoo, we’re just huddled down awaiting the storm wot’s incoming as instructed by the powers that be who, according to various ‘news’ reporters have told many thousands of folk to stay indoors. Oh, and they’re reporting this ‘critical’ advice from outdoors. Go figure.

Quote; Rajneesh.

“Life is possible only through challenges. Life is possible only when you have both good weather and bad weather, when you have both pleasure and pain, when you have both winter and summer, day and night. When you have both sadness and happiness, discomfort and comfort. Life moves between these two polarities. Moving between these two polarities you learn how to balance. Between these two wings you learn how to fly to the farthest star.”

And Then A Smile…

   Well, so, another shed load of our money going to Africa to help ‘control’ the climate. A country that, according to gimme adverts, can’t even dig a hole to find clean water. One wonders where that money will end up eh? And no money to keep our own elderly a tad warm for a weekend.
   Anyhoo, let’s give that no never mind but it did jog my fading, cold memory to a very old post wot’s below:
   You may well remember this very old joke which I believe, back in the day, related to a missionary but I’ve update it somewhat to feature a charity worker, let’s call him Gavin, who was dispatched to a remote African village as a stepping stone to informing all the tribes in that area of the new religion; man-made climate change and also to persuade the locals to stop hunting the ‘endangered’ Wuguly that are the prime source of meat and clothing thereabouts. Also to stop the prolific use of open fires for cooking Wuguly meat.
   He was to explain that the charity would fund the felling of vast tracts of the jungle so’s to install solar panel arrays. The fact that these tracts of jungle were the main habitat and breeding grounds of the ‘endangered’ Wuguly and the source of the two veg that complements Wuguly meat, got lost in the charity’s need to be seen to be doing something and to keep donations rolling in.
   Gavin, with a locally hired translator, duly rolled into the village in the charity 4 x 4 monster motor and had a meeting with the chief were Gavin, via the translator, laid out the scheme. At the end of each statement relating to the stopping of hunting the majestic Wuguly, to stop using open fires and the plan to clear the surrounding jungle and such, all to prevent man-made climate change, the chief threw his arms in the air, smiled broadly and stamped his feet while shouting, “Umbala!! Umbala!!” Gavin then introduced the chief to the delights of yogurt to yet further enthusiastic shouts of, “Umbala!!”
   Gavin, much heartened by this was highly delighted when the chief said he would assemble the whole tribe within the hour so they could all hear the cunning plan and all try a tub of yogurt. This came to pass and the entire tribe acted in a similar manner to the chief upon hearing each statement from Gavin. Much stamping of feet, arm waving, laughing and shouting of, “Umbala!! Umbala!!”
   Gladdened by his apparent success, Gavin and his translator walked through the village towards their mega emissions ride to go back to ‘civilisation’.
   As they passed one big hut Gavin was taken by surprise by the loud noises emanating from within and asked his companion what all the to-do was about.
“Ah, that’s where they keep the live Wugulies they’ve trapped until they’re ready to kill ‘em and eat ‘em when hunting isn’t going too well.”
“Really? Perfect! I need photos for our heart tugging TV begging adverts. Let me get in there and...”
The translator quickly grabbed Gavin’s arm stopping him in his tracks. “Whoa!! Don’t go in there Gav! If you do you’ll find yourself up to your neck in Wuguly umbala.”
   Thus the inner joy Gavin felt for a job well done, rapidly faded into the world of reality...
   Climate change? What a load of utter umbala eh?

Quote; Mark Twain.

“Go to Heaven for the climate, Hell for the company.”

And Then Another Blow…

   Two blows in fact. Blow one is I need to get yet another blood test following the iffy results of last weeks test. Head on sleep interruption mode again...
   Second blow had another scary name and was forecast to blow the UK into Europe. However where wot we live it resulted in a nothing burger, just a short period of typically strong winter wind. It didn’t even move the garden bucket or ruffle the back-door outside mat.
   I did see the ‘news’ was still in hyper scary mode this morning with ‘reporters’ needlessly reporting from various outside windy wet locations. There were also a phew clips of damage. How lucky is that to have your camera pointing at a tree at the precise moment it comes down across a car or road eh? Or should that be ...across a car AI? I have no idea but, for sure, the old adage ‘believe half of wot you see and nothing that you hear’ is becoming ever more relevant day-by-day...
   Anyhoo, that seems to be Isha outgoing but please don’t relax as blowy ol’ Jocelyn‘s incoming.

 Quote; Ansel Adams.

“Bad weather makes for good photography.”

  Jerome K. Jerome.

“The weather is like the government; always in the wrong.”

And Then A Name With A Message…

    Awoke to yet another seasonally dull, dismal, wet and windy day. You know wot? Better give it a name right? Okay, how about Gerrit? Yup, that’ll do.
    And therein that name lies a subliminal message to all you climate change doubters, deniers and conspiracy theorists: This storm{?} is a direct result of climate change. It’s really happening. You nutters gerrit now?

Quote; Maria V. Snyder.

“There's always another storm. It's the way the world works. Snowstorms, rainstorms, windstorms, sandstorms, and firestorms. Some are fierce and others are small. You have to deal with each one separately, but you need to keep an eye on what's brewing for tomorrow.”

And Then I Dice With Death…

   Out for lunch but didn’t go far as the weather wasn’t very conducive to a country drive. Nice food and, no great surprise, up a tad in price again.
   Anyhoo, got home, looked out the back and was saddened to see that a slice of strong wind Pia had wreaked havoc in the back garden. Oh my, wot a rotten birthday present.
   Wot to do. Wot I did was hold an in depth health and safety and risk assessment meeting in ma heed, checked my will to ensure it was up to date and sallied forth to attempt to fix the shambles.
   This went a lot smoother than anticipated and in no time at all, all was fixed and the empty bucket that’d blown across the garden was retrieved and placed safely back, upside down, behind the garden shed and I was back inside, breathing deep sighs of relief swaddled in the cloistered safety of the sofa reflecting on the dangers I’d faced in a risk to life storm{?} for sake of an empty bucket...

Quote; Tamera Alexander.

“But he'd learned long ago that a life lived without risks pretty much wasn't worth living. Life rewarded courage, even when that first step was taken neck-deep in fear.”

And Then Another Name…

   I’m happy - and relieved - to report that we’ve survived the latest spell of wet, windy, winter weather and I see yet another seasonal bit o' weather was, as is the latest scary trend, given a name.
   One has to wonder if this newish trend to name all and any weather will carry on into next summer with scarily bright red weather maps and warnings to stay indoors as hyper heat wave Boiling Bobby is due to engulf the country for the next two days with temperatures predicted to reach the risk to life Boiling Bobby mid thirties. Now that’d shred the nerve-ends of the Timidadians would it not?

Quote; Friedrich Nietzsche.

“Those who cannot understand how to put their thoughts on ice should not enter into the heat of debate.”

And Then Another….

   I see yet another spell of bag weather is forecast. This time it’s got a name I can relate to; Storm Karen. Say wot now? Oh, sorry, it’s Storm Ciarán.
    Never mind, the forecast charts are yet again covered in really dark, scary colours.
    A K Haart has a cunning idea regards the scary use of figures and how they need to be big to instil the maximum fear factor into fragile folk.
    Along those lines, I remember, not long ago when the forecasters, when reporting a sunny day, would mumble barely audibly a temperature of 32C. That would be followed by the high volume, slowly pronounced figure of 89.6F with the F suitably mumbled. For reasons not fully understood, that little trick seems to have been dropped.

Quote; Mark Twain.

“Climate is what we expect, weather is what we get.”

And Then We Got Rain….

   The weather forecast the other day predicted very heavy rain here for the whole of the next day with a drop of up to a months worth of rain. All with the added scary amber alert of the risk of getting wet. Wot did we get? Right here, wot we got was a little light drizzle starting at about ten thirty and it was all over by a bit after midday.
    And these forecasters who have trouble forecasting for a phew hours ahead are part of the same team of experts who’re predicting that, unless urgent action is taken by you and me right NOW, such as limiting our private jet flights and motorcade trips to the shops and heating our swimming pools, the world will finally boil to destruction at precisely 09:36 on the 15^th of July, 2034.
I’m guessing the end will come a tad earlier than that and, looking around right now, could be triggered by one of two things.
    Firstly, some old fellow with his finger floating above the nuke button and the stand down button presses the wrong one with the final word, “Whoops” as he reaches for his very last ice-cream.
    Or secondly, that planet wot’s using this planet as its lunatic asylum, in the hope the lunacy would breed out of us inmates, has one last flyby and finally admits failure and directs that giant asteroid at us to make an end to their tried but failed experiment.
    Okay, one more bass number for the fifteen minute prisons we’ll all soon be in;

Quote; Vivian Greene.

“Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass... it's about learning to dance in the rain.”

          Roger Miller.

“Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet.”

And Then We Stayed In….

   Well, the TV weather forecasts were/are suitably scary with maps of red and amber complete with exclamation marks but one thing that’s usually included these daze was missing. This left us with a decision to make. Go out or stay indoors? Why? Well, the TV didn’t tell us wot to wear to best be protected from the rain and wind.
    Not getting this invaluable info from the media, I came down in just a shirt only to be told by my little nest of vipers that I should, at least, put a pair of trousers on as well. End result? Another day scarily huddled in the cupboard under the stairs. See y’all next spring...

Quote; Kin Hubbard.

“Don't knock the weather. If it didn't change once in a while, nine out of ten people couldn't start a conversation.”

And Then Getting Ready….

   We’re busy getting ready for further days of doom as the ‘news’ channels weather bits are in scary red depicting a bit o’ wind and a lot o’ rain. And it’s got a name. And that would be? Storm Babet. If we’re all going to be washed away shouldn’t it be called storm Bidet?
   Anyhoo, much to be done here and at present we haven’t settled on where to store the sarnies for when we go into hiding. Under the stairs away from the frightening wind or in the loft above the possible flood? Flood? Shouldn’t that be flud so’s it reads as it sounds?
    Or shall we just carry on as normal through the incoming, close to normal, autumnal stormy weather? Damn! So much to worry about. Wot a world we’ve wound up in eh?

Quote; Maria V. Snyder.

“There's always another storm. It's the way the world works. Snowstorms, rainstorms, windstorms, sandstorms, and firestorms. Some are fierce and others are small. You have to deal with each one separately, but you need to keep an eye on what’s brewing for tomorrow.”

And Then Of Interest...

   ...to those of you wot take a walk and pay attention to your surroundings with glances at the wondrous vistas the sky presents us; oh, look, con trails! And of no interest to the ever expanding numbers wot go for a walk with head downcast looking at that smart{?}phone thingy in their hand. It’s long so gird yourself with a drink, okay? Wot to do? Go walking in scuba kit just in case?

   Secondly, a clip soon to be aired on our MSM over here. Or possibly not...
You’ll need to click here for this one.

Quote; Stieg Larsson.

“Dear Government, I'm going to have a serious talk with you if I ever find anyone to talk to.”

And Then, Chilly...

   Well, so, may I offer a full apology to all those climate fanatics that I’ve periodically poked fun at on these pages. I now see climate change is real and with us right now as just a phew days ago we were basking in typically warm summer weather then, boom, we awake to weather akin to that of early autumn and I’m back into a woolly pully. Okay, I’m convinced; we obviously only have days left to save the planet.
   Oh, sorry y’all, I’m not doing my bit as we had the fire on for an hour this afternoon. Having typed that, looks like it must be damn cold in  France as I see they’ve been lighting bonfires all over the place to keep warm.
   However, on the other hand, it could just be old fashioned weather...
   In other ‘news’, we’ve just been to the supermarket and I see the creep continues. You notice how open staffed checkout counters are reducing thus getting folk to use the self checkout machines? This place had two lines of self checkout machines; eight that took cash or card and eight card only. In the space of a week the eight cash or card line has been reduced to just two that accept cash. Softly, softly...

Quote;  Frederick Douglass
Read.

“It is not light that we need, but fire; it is not the gentle shower, but thunder. We need the storm, the whirlwind, and the earthquake.”

And Then, Be Warned...

   The media is warning us of thunder storms incoming. Damn! We’ve only just got out from the cupboard under the stairs where we survived the last warning regards heat. Oh well, better restock the hole and climb back in I guess.
   Only kidding – oh, you guessed I was - but since when did we need warnings regards a thunderstorm or warm summer daze or the possibility of heavy rain or a chilly night? I can only guess this is part of the plan to keep the focus on the fear factor in the gullible regards that climate thingy and the ‘fact’ we’re all going to fry. Or is freeze? hard to keep track is it not? Sadly, gullibility seems hugely popular down here does it not?
   Anyhoo, two Sunday tracks. First-up, apropos  the above, The Forecast Calls For Pain. Would that pain be for ‘them’ up there or for us down here? Oh, right.

   Then this one for all Timidadians regards media weather and financial forecasting; Don’t Be Afraid Of The Dark. Just a pair of easy listening tracks; enjoy your time in the cupboard y’all.

Quote;  James Russell Lowell.

“One thorn of experience is worth a whole wilderness of warning.”

And Then A Bit O’ Sun...

   Well, the last phew days have been very pleasant regards the weather haven’t they? And the sky’s been a joy to behold wot with all those con-trails doing wot I know not.
   The most noticeable thing regards a bit o’ bright weather is the reaction to this of just about all the folk of an age – and that age group I’d guess at early teens to mid forties and predominately of the opposite gender to me. Now I realise that could mean a whole host of folk these days, so for the sake of simplicity, female...
   Y’all, I’m sure, know wot I mean. Several layers of outer garments have been cast aside in favour of brightly multi-coloured super skimpy barely coverings of questionable construction.
   This coupled with the desire to have hair coloured blue, purple, red or green, or a bit of all on one head, had my little nest of vipers and I feeling like we’d been transported to the centre circle of Billy Smarts Circus as they brought on the clowns...
   No offence; do as you wish while you still can, okay?
   One thought; with the seemingly ever growing popularity to have multi facial piercings to house rings, studs, buds an’ such, do those items get a tad hot on warm, sunny days?
   Anyhoo, time to continue our stroll through the kaleidoscope that is the new world order.

Quote;  Tamerlan Kuzgov.

“Clowns are made by those who made a circus out of life.”

And Then, Back We Go...

   With the further hyperventilating by the media relating to the snow fall and school closures, I searched and found this old piece copied from I can’t remember where, way back in 2007.
   By-the-by, as the snow fell this morning,  the TV were good enough to tell  me it was cold out there so wrap up warm if going out. I was so grateful to them as I was about to step out in t-shirt and shorts. Thankyou for reaching out to hold my hand. Oh, a young lady ‘reporter’ even mentioned ‘frozen ice’. You learn something new every day, eh?
   Anyhoo, here it is for those of an age to relate to and enjoy. Sadly, I go back a lot further but it’s all lost to the modern{?} world.

Childhood Dayz...
   Take a break from the grind and remember when... Close your eyes and go back in time.
   Before the Internet or the Apple Mac. Before semi-automatics, joy riders and crack. Before SEGA or Super Nintendo.
   Way back:
   I'm talking about Hide and Seek in the park. The corner shop. Hopscotch. Butterscotch. Skipping. Handstands. Football with an old can. Fingerbobs. Beano, Twinkle. Roly-Poly. Hula Hoops, jumping the stream, building dams. The smell of the sun and fresh cut grass. Bazooka Joe bubble gum. An ice cream cone on a warm summer night from the van that plays a tune.
   Wait...
   Watching Saturday morning cartoons; short commercials, The Double Decker's, Road Runner, He-Man, Tiswas or Swapshop? and Why Don't you - or staying up for Star Trek.    
   When around the corner seemed far away and going into town seemed like really going somewhere.
   Earwigs, wasps and bee stings. Sticky fingers. Cops and Robbers, Cowboys and Indians and Zorro. Climbing trees. Getting a foot of snow was a dream come true. Building igloos out of snow banks. Walking to school, no matter what the weather. Running till you were out of breath. Laughing so hard that your stomach hurt. Jumping on the bed. Pillow fights. Spinning around, getting dizzy and falling down was cause for giggles. Being tired from playing. Remember that?
   The worst embarrassment was being picked last for a team. Water balloons were the ultimate weapon. Football cards in the spokes transformed any bike into a motorcycle. Choppers and Grifters
   I'm not finished just yet. Eating raw jelly. Orange squash ice pops.
   Remember when:
  There were two types of trainers - girls and boys, and Dunlop Green Flash - and the only time you wore them at school was for P.E. You knew everyone in your street - and so did your parents. It wasn't odd to have two or three "best" friends. You didn't sleep a wink on Christmas Eve.
   When nobody owned a purebred dog. When 25p was decent pocket money. When you'd reach into a muddy gutter for a penny. When nearly everyone's mum was at home when the kids got there. It was magic when dad would "remove" his thumb. When it was considered a great privilege to be taken out to dinner at a real restaurant with your parents. When any parent could discipline any kid, or feed him or use him to carry groceries and nobody, not even the kid, thought a thing of it. When being sent to the Headmaster's office was nothing compared to the fate that awaited a misbehaving student at home. Basically, we were in fear for our lives but it wasn't because of drive-by shootings, drugs or gangs. Our parents and grandparents were a much bigger threat! And some of us are still afraid of them! Didn't that feel good?
   Just to go back and say, yeah, I remember that!
   Remember when:
  Decisions were made by going "Ip Dip Dog Ship." (yeah I know) "Race issue" meant arguing about who ran the fastest. Money issues were handled by whoever was the banker in "Monopoly". The worst thing you could catch from the opposite sex was a cold. And the worst thing in your day was having to sit next to one. It was unbelievable that British Bulldog wasn't an Olympic event. Having a weapon in school meant being caught with a catapult.
   Nobody was prettier than Mum. Scrapes and bruises were kissed better. Taking drugs meant orange-flavoured chewable aspirin. Ice cream was considered a basic food group. Older siblings were the worst tormentors, but also the fiercest protectors.
   If you can remember most or all of these, then you have lived.

Quote;   Chili Davis.

“Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional.”

                   Daniel Black.

“Sometimes you have to grow up before you appreciate how you grew up.”

And Then, An Old One...

   Snow be falling so could it be time for this classic again wot goes back a ways and wot I loaned from where I remember not but it seems to be all over the Wibbly Wobbly Web wot makes me feel a tad better regards it being here ‘on loan’. 

  December 8: 6:00 PM. It started to snow. The first snow of the season and the wife and I took our cocktails and sat for hours by the window watching the huge soft flakes drift down from heaven. It looked like a Grandma Moses Print. So romantic we felt like newlyweds again. I love snow!
  December 9: We woke to a beautiful blanket of crystal white snow covering every inch of the landscape. What a fantastic sight! Can there be a lovelier place in the Whole World? Moving here was the best idea I've ever had. Shovelled for the first time in years and felt like a boy again. I did both our driveway and the sidewalks. This afternoon the snowplough came along and covered up the sidewalks and closed in the driveway, so I got to shovel again. What a perfect life.
  December 12: The sun has melted all our lovely snow. Such a disappointment. My neighbour tells me not to worry; we'll definitely have a white Christmas. No snow on Christmas would be awful! Bob says we'll have so much snow by the end of winter that I'll never want to see snow again. I don't think that's possible. Bob is such a nice man. I'm glad he's our neighbour.
  December 14: Snow, lovely snow! 8 inches last night. The temperature dropped to -20. The cold makes everything sparkle so. The wind took my breath away, but I warmed up by shovelling the driveway and sidewalks. This is the life! The snowplough came back this afternoon and buried everything again. I didn't realize I would have to do quite this much shovelling, but I'll certainly get back in shape this way. I wish I wouldn't huff and puff so much.
  December 15: 20 inches forecast. Sold my van and bought a 4 X 4 Blazer. Bought snow tires for the wife's car and 2 extra shovels. Stocked the freezer. The wife wants a wood stove in case the electricity goes out. I think that's silly. We aren't in Alaska, after all.
  December 16: Ice storm this morning. Fell on my ass on the ice in the driveway putting down salt. Hurt like hell. The wife laughed for an hour, which I think was very cruel.
  December 17: Still way below freezing. Roads are too icy to go anywhere. Electricity was off for 5 hours. I had to pile the blankets on to stay warm. Nothing to do but stare at the wife and try not to irritate her. Guess I should've bought a wood stove, but won't admit it to her. God I hate it when she's right. I can't believe I'm freezing to death in my own living room.
  December 20: Electricity's back on, but had another 14 inches of the damn stuff last night. More shovelling. Took all day. Goddamn snowplough came by twice. Tried to find a neighbour kid to shovel, but they said they're too busy playing hockey. I think they're lying. Called the only hardware store around to see about buying a snow blower and they're out. Might have another shipment in March. I think they're lying. Bob says I have to shovel or the city will have it done and bill me. I think he's lying.
  December 22: Bob was right about a white Christmas because 13 more inches of the white shit fell today, and it's so cold it probably won't melt ‘till August. Took me 45 minutes to get all dressed up to go out to shovel and then I had to piss. By the time I got undressed, pissed and dressed again. I was too tired to shovel. Tried to hire Bob who has a plough on his truck for the rest of the winter; but he says he's too busy. I think the asshole is lying.
  December 23: Only 2 inches of snow today. And it warmed up to 0. The wife wanted me to decorate the front of the house this morning. What is she... nuts??? Why didn't she tell me to do that a month ago? She says she did but I think she's damn well lying.
  December 24: 6 inches. Snow packed so hard by snowplough, l broke the shovel. Thought I was having a heart attack. If I ever catch the son of a bitch who drives that snowplough, I'll drag him through the snow by his balls. I know he hides around the corner and waits for me to finish shovelling and then he comes down the street at a 100 miles an hour and throws snow all over where I've just been! Tonight the wife wanted me to sing Christmas carols with her and open our presents, but I was busy watching for the goddamn snowplough.
  December 25: Merry Christmas. 20 more inches of the...!*/^$@!?#+&... slop tonight. Snowed in. The idea of shovelling makes my blood boil. God I hate the snow! Then the snowplough driver came by asking for a donation and I hit him over the head with my shovel. The wife says I have a bad attitude. I think she's an idiot. If I have to watch "It's a Wonderful Life" one more time, I'm going to kill her.
  December 26: Still snowed in. Why the hell did I ever move here? It was all HER idea. She's really getting on my nerves.
  December 27: Temperature dropped to -30 and the pipes froze.
  December 28: Warmed up to above -50. Still snowed in. THE BITCH is driving me crazy!!!
  December 29: 10 more inches. Bob says I have to shovel the roof or it could cave in. That's the silliest thing I ever heard. How dumb does he think I am?
  December 30: Roof caved in. The snowplough driver is suing me for a million dollars for the bump on his head. The wife went home to her mother. 9 inches predicted.
  December 31: Set fire to what's left of the house. No more shovelling.
  January 8: I feel so good. I just love those little white pills they keep giving me. Why am I tied to the bed?

Quote;  Charles Dickens.

“It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.”