A new Beaufort?

While out walking the mutt this morning, I was assulted by the weather.

As well as getting snowed on I was getting buffeted around by the wind, which got me thinking about the Beaufort Scale. As I was trying to remember the visual clues to wind speed (Force 0 = smoke rises vertically, Force 1= smoke drifts, Force 2 = leaves rustle etc) I emerged from behind the (unknown) shelter of a copse to be nearly blown off my feet.

This got me thinking, maybe there should be a modernisation of the Beaufort Scale? Something “people in the steet” could relate to (yes, dumbing down if you like, but it could be fun and kept me amused almost all the way home). For example, at what force do trousers get plastered to your legs? So here are a few suggestions, along with appropriate action plans:

Force 4 – long hair annoyingly tickles your nose – tie hair back
Force 7 – trousers are plastered to your legs – don’t wear baggy pants
Force 8 – small dogs take off – hold tight to lead and pretend you have a kite
Force 10 – people blown off their feet – acquire large dog, lay flat on ground and use dog as an anchor

It’s incomplete, but a start.

A funny thing happened on the way to the farm shop

I was visiting my Mum a couple of weeks back and as she doesn’t drive I thought we’d have a run out to our favourite farm shop. This has been an institution in our family for as long as I can remember. Many a summer day has been spent at the attached pick your own which grows dozens of different kinds of fruit and veg all for the picking.

Anyway, on the way there we thought we’s stop at a garden centre/haberdashery/find-anything-you-need-here place. While there I saw this man walking towards me who I recognised – the Dad of my schooldays best friend. I haven’t heard from said friend for over 9 years and not seen her Dad for a good decade or more. Unsurprisingly he couldn’t put a name to the face, but we were soon chatting about how everyone was doing.

I lost touch with this friend less than a year before I got married – I was fed up of always being the one who phoned and then spending half an hour hearing about her life without being asked about mine. I vividly remember the last time we spoke, and having put the phone down turning to the OH and saying that I’d not be calling her anymore, she could call me. I knew then that she’d not call. Over the years I have wondered how she’s doing and have thought about trying to get in touch.

I wasn’t surprised when she didn’t contact me when I was at my Mum’s having just seen her Dad.

I don’t know if I ever did anything wrong, if maybe having been best friends for 14+ years she expected to be my bridesmaid. I would have hoped if I had done something she’d have said – she was never shy of an arguement!

So I’m not angry or sad. In some ways I’m pleased – closure I guess. It does make me wonder though, how, when life changes in so many ways everyday, that some friends stay for a short while, others for many years and a very few forever (I hope). Keeps us guessing.

SEAGULLS!

For those who may care, I once hailed from much sunnier climes than these – namely the south coast of England. That made my adolecent initiation into the delights of watching 11 strapping men chasing a ball in one direction while 11 (usually) equally strapping men chase it back the other way, firmly coloured blue and white in a striped fashion.

So it is, all be it a little belatedly, I offer my congratualtions to the “mighty” seagulls for knocking the falsely-enriches-by-foreign-money northern chaps that play in baby blue out of the cup!

GO SEAGULLS!!!

Client rant

So here I am for the second consecutive night, working until stupid o’clock to pull the sorry arse of the most disorganised client in the world out of the myre YET AGAIN! The phone goes. “Is the TMDCINTW chasing me?” I think. Well yes, it is said client, but not chasing me, no, he wants to know if I think this strawberry plants are acting normally for the time of year.

At this point, I should admit my first thought was “you jammy bugger – strawbs on your plants when we have frost!!!”, but i won’t!

Excuse me? It’s fucking 11.30pm, you’re in serious danger of not having your own literature at your own exhibition and you’re phoning the only person who can help you out of the shit to ask about your strawberry plants? Not got a grip springs to mind.

So later, when I phone him, his response is “it’s party time here, we’ve got a 10CC CD on and the Stella out…” O.M.G!!! I refrained from letting him know I wouldn’t touch that gnat’s piss with a bargepole and that I had in fact poured myself a large glass of something single and malty long ago to make it through the worse-that-extracting-teeth pain of working for him.

But hell, it made me laugh!!!