Wednesday.
Five fifteen always seems so darn early. We take extra five minutes before leaping into action. Get dressed, finish off packing, make coffee, make breakfast. Time to go at six fifteen, at least it is starting to get light which means I will be able to look out the train windows instead of the dead eyes of my fellow commuters.
It is cold on the station, but the wait is at least short. A departure time drew near, more and more passengers gather on the platform, clutching paper cups of coffee. I slide into my favoured seats on such mornings; a double airline seat that has a clear view out of the window. Amazing how in the 21st century train designers can't manage to line the seats and windows of in a railway carriage; is it really so difficult?
We rattle through Folkestone and onwards to Ashford, the train filling up all the time. I stare out of the window as we speed through South Kent, into the North Downs Tunnel, over the Medway, through Ebbsfleet, under the Thames and across the Rainham Marshes. Down into the tunnel at Dagenham Docks, and the final stretch of the journey is in the dark as we near Stratford.
Cross the station, onto the DLR amongst the workers heading to the old olympic village as the athlete's accommodation are turned into flats. Through Stratford, West Ham, Canning Town to Newham and the airport, where all is chaos: on a Wednesday! But then this is half term and the middle classes are heading to the slops of the Alps with their little darlings. My flight is only half full when it boards.
Up into the blue sky and over East london into south Essex with familar landmarks way down below. I lose sight of Essex as the climb over Brentwood, and i just get a glimpse of the Orwell Bridge a few minutes later, as the arches of the bridge ate in bright sunlight. And then fair england is lost to view. I snooze the rest of the flight, passing on the cold meal, ice cream and minature bottle of whisky that is offered.
Denmark is grey: very grey as we break cloud cover to discover that we are at tree height as we are on final approach to Billund. I am given an Audi A3 for my trip, once inside i select the dynamic drive mode, engage drive and vrooooom; off we go.
It is just an hour to head office, which meant I make the project bi-weekly meeting, and so get all the latest news on our dealings with the customer. And into another meeting, only to be told all has gone to rat shit for the meeting with our customer on Friday, and some fire-fighting has to be done; mails to be sent, calls to be made. And then on with the meeting onto half six and the Danish evening.
I had planned to do some work in the evening, but all I am good for is to slump on the bed and try to keep my eyes open as Arsenal take on Munich in the CL; it is as one-sided as i feared, but it does manage to entertain me until full time, I turn the TV off and head back across the room to bed.
Saturday, 22 February 2014
Tuesday, 18 February 2014
Tuesday 18th February 2014
Monday.
And back to work. And in Ramsgate.
It is getting light as we leave home, dropping Jools off at the LFB. And so as i wind my way through the Buckland estate, it is light, with the soon soon to poke its head above the horizon. At least with half term being on, the traffic is lighter than ever, and so the drive is pretty much enjoyable, although there are those to whom indicating and getting in the correct lane is something only others should do.
The sun is already up as I exit the harbour tunnel, and as planned, the monkeys are just loading the boats out for a day offshore.
I have a packed day, fuelled by frequent cups of strong coffee and much merrymaking and moaning with Peter at least, who shares my world-weary views on life further up the management chain, and those who live and work in the monkey house. He even makes my day when he asks if I want the spare ticket for The Stranglers in Folkestone next month. Result.
I meet up with Jools in dover where I need to pick up a few things, like a new belt. And whilst we wait for the Poles to clean the car we head to coffee house for, er, coffee. And cherry shortbread. Or at least I do. It all seems very nice to do something different on a work night.
Also different is the evening when I head back down to the Rack of Ale for the monthly CAMRA meeting. And beers.
It all is more pleasant than last month's, with no name calling and trash talk, which, when you think is from a group of old hairy blokes, old enough to be my Granddad is rather surprising. food had been laid on, as well as a talk by the area's two newest brewers who are re-creating tudor brews from the metropolis that is Eastry.
Jools picks me up at half nine, by which time I am full of beery goodness and blabbering along very well.
Good night.
Tuesday.
Working from home.
Mails to write.
Meetings to arrange.
Flights to book.
Because tomorrow I am off to the frozen north once again, just for a couple of days. Team building and audits. What a rock and roll lifestyle I lead.
Anyway, I will be away until Saturday. Just to let you know. Be good.
Oh, and I got a new camera bag today. Something to protect the boys if I slip on ice again, as the top pouch on the old one did not protect the camera in there. So, another new era. The last one I port in Portland, Oregon in 2005; it done well.....
And back to work. And in Ramsgate.
It is getting light as we leave home, dropping Jools off at the LFB. And so as i wind my way through the Buckland estate, it is light, with the soon soon to poke its head above the horizon. At least with half term being on, the traffic is lighter than ever, and so the drive is pretty much enjoyable, although there are those to whom indicating and getting in the correct lane is something only others should do.
The sun is already up as I exit the harbour tunnel, and as planned, the monkeys are just loading the boats out for a day offshore.
I have a packed day, fuelled by frequent cups of strong coffee and much merrymaking and moaning with Peter at least, who shares my world-weary views on life further up the management chain, and those who live and work in the monkey house. He even makes my day when he asks if I want the spare ticket for The Stranglers in Folkestone next month. Result.
I meet up with Jools in dover where I need to pick up a few things, like a new belt. And whilst we wait for the Poles to clean the car we head to coffee house for, er, coffee. And cherry shortbread. Or at least I do. It all seems very nice to do something different on a work night.
Also different is the evening when I head back down to the Rack of Ale for the monthly CAMRA meeting. And beers.
It all is more pleasant than last month's, with no name calling and trash talk, which, when you think is from a group of old hairy blokes, old enough to be my Granddad is rather surprising. food had been laid on, as well as a talk by the area's two newest brewers who are re-creating tudor brews from the metropolis that is Eastry.
Jools picks me up at half nine, by which time I am full of beery goodness and blabbering along very well.
Good night.
Tuesday.
Working from home.
Mails to write.
Meetings to arrange.
Flights to book.
Because tomorrow I am off to the frozen north once again, just for a couple of days. Team building and audits. What a rock and roll lifestyle I lead.
Anyway, I will be away until Saturday. Just to let you know. Be good.
Oh, and I got a new camera bag today. Something to protect the boys if I slip on ice again, as the top pouch on the old one did not protect the camera in there. So, another new era. The last one I port in Portland, Oregon in 2005; it done well.....
Monday, 17 February 2014
Monday 17th February 2014
Sunday.
Sunday, the day of sun.
Indeed. And just as the BBC said, the wind died and the clouds cleared, and so all day the sun shone from a clear blue sky. It was all rather wonderful.
After a lazy late breakfast of coffee and bacon butties we headed to Russell Gardens to see how the flooding there from the flow from the Drellingore and Dour was acting out. Down by Kearsney Abbey the water was overflowing and running down the Alkham Valley road with more water bubbling up through manhole covers and the such.
The Dour had caused the water in the ornamental lake to overflow, with the benches alongside half-submerged. A few others had also come down to look and photograph the scene. It was all rather surreal to be honest. Further up near Bushy Ruff, the water was overflowing from the large lake there and turning the footpath into a fast flowing stream. Further progress was pretty impossible so we turned back and decided to head to see our friend, Gary.
Driving along Lower Road alongside the river was interesting, but although the water was high, it was not overflowing as most of the floodwater was being held up in Russell Gardens. As we turned down towards the mill, I saw Gary unloading his camera equipment from the back of his car. We pulled up behind us, but he was so entranced in his task he did not hear us.
Turned out he was on the trail of a kingfisher that the miller had seen on Thursday. So I got my camera stuff out too and we walked along the river for a while hoping to see a flash of the bird as it flew around. But we were unlucky and saw just the usual, common waterfowl.
After the walk we went back to his for a chat and a tea, and for me to try to snap some of the birds he has been tempting into his garden, especially Long Tailed Tits, which I have only seen twice before and never photographed. Or photographed well.
He told us to sit on a wall near the feeder and wait. Seemed unlikely, but we did that. The air was full of birdsong, my concentration wavered, and then there was a LTT! I snapped it. It was joined by a second and then a third, all looking wonderful small and brightly coloured. I rattled off 200 or so shots and was happy with that.
We headed home for lunch, and getting out of the car we could actually feel the warmth in the sun. In fact it seemed possible that it was warm enough to sit in the garden. Although as it turned out the light breeze took the edge off the temperature and so that seat outside went unfilled. I tried to get excited by the football, but it was all a little low key. I mean if the clubs themselves can’t work themselves to take it seriously, why should we?
For dinner I cooked roast lamb and instead of gravy made Delia’s recommended Shrewsbury Sauce instead. And it turned out pretty well I have to say.
That evening we watched a Billy Connolly DVD and waited for a badge to come into the garden. Just as ten o’clock approached, a small badger appeared and began clearing up the peanuts on the ground. We could have watched it all night, but Monday being a school day and all, it was time for bed…..
Sunday, the day of sun.
Indeed. And just as the BBC said, the wind died and the clouds cleared, and so all day the sun shone from a clear blue sky. It was all rather wonderful.
After a lazy late breakfast of coffee and bacon butties we headed to Russell Gardens to see how the flooding there from the flow from the Drellingore and Dour was acting out. Down by Kearsney Abbey the water was overflowing and running down the Alkham Valley road with more water bubbling up through manhole covers and the such.
The Dour had caused the water in the ornamental lake to overflow, with the benches alongside half-submerged. A few others had also come down to look and photograph the scene. It was all rather surreal to be honest. Further up near Bushy Ruff, the water was overflowing from the large lake there and turning the footpath into a fast flowing stream. Further progress was pretty impossible so we turned back and decided to head to see our friend, Gary.
Driving along Lower Road alongside the river was interesting, but although the water was high, it was not overflowing as most of the floodwater was being held up in Russell Gardens. As we turned down towards the mill, I saw Gary unloading his camera equipment from the back of his car. We pulled up behind us, but he was so entranced in his task he did not hear us.
Turned out he was on the trail of a kingfisher that the miller had seen on Thursday. So I got my camera stuff out too and we walked along the river for a while hoping to see a flash of the bird as it flew around. But we were unlucky and saw just the usual, common waterfowl.
After the walk we went back to his for a chat and a tea, and for me to try to snap some of the birds he has been tempting into his garden, especially Long Tailed Tits, which I have only seen twice before and never photographed. Or photographed well.
He told us to sit on a wall near the feeder and wait. Seemed unlikely, but we did that. The air was full of birdsong, my concentration wavered, and then there was a LTT! I snapped it. It was joined by a second and then a third, all looking wonderful small and brightly coloured. I rattled off 200 or so shots and was happy with that.
We headed home for lunch, and getting out of the car we could actually feel the warmth in the sun. In fact it seemed possible that it was warm enough to sit in the garden. Although as it turned out the light breeze took the edge off the temperature and so that seat outside went unfilled. I tried to get excited by the football, but it was all a little low key. I mean if the clubs themselves can’t work themselves to take it seriously, why should we?
For dinner I cooked roast lamb and instead of gravy made Delia’s recommended Shrewsbury Sauce instead. And it turned out pretty well I have to say.
That evening we watched a Billy Connolly DVD and waited for a badge to come into the garden. Just as ten o’clock approached, a small badger appeared and began clearing up the peanuts on the ground. We could have watched it all night, but Monday being a school day and all, it was time for bed…..
Sunday, 16 February 2014
Sunday 16th February 2014
Saturday.
A day of rest. what could be better than laying in bed until nine just enjoying not having to get up for work? Well, apparently, my body thinks otherwise and I'm laying in bed from five waiting until it begins to get light.
I get up, feed the cats and make coffee. Then I decide we should go down the bay to see the sunrise and see if there are any big waves breaking. As once again we have a howling gale blowing, but it seems high tide was in the wee small hours and so after we arrive down in the bay we find the sea a long way out, but more of the beach having been deposited on the promenade.
we take some shots, walk down to the edge of beach where the chalk makes rock pools, of a sort, take more shots. Then decide to head to Shakespeare Beach to see some real waves.
Back up the hill, onto the Deal road then down Jubilee Way to be confronted by a huge queue of traffic. No problem, we just do a turn in the road and head past the Duke of York's to the castle and down into town and out onto Town Wall Street. Where all of Europe's trucks are waiting for a berth on a ferry back to La Belle France. Apparently, due to the storm last night, the port had been closed since one. And the queue was building.
Past Burlington House.
Past the Megger building.
Up past Aycliffe.
Up past Samphire Hoe.
All exits off the main road back into town were blocked by trucks, so we had to head to Capel le Ferne where we knew we could get back on the Old Folkestone Road back into town. Only, wouldn't the views from the cliffs down onto the Warren be good?
Let's see.
We get out of the car, only for the doors to be ripped out of our hands by the gale. We walk up onto the grass, leaning at an angle of 45 degrees we just about manage to stay upright. I have to switch the camera to sports mode to get a shutter speed that allows for non-blurry shots as I am buffeted by the winds. But it is exhilarating, it must be what it is like to free fall parachute as our faces are pushed into comedic shapes by the wind.
We get back into the car, and decide that due to the traffic, we should get our chores done and stay home. At least for a while. We head down the Old Folkestone Road being tail-gated by a lorry hoping to queue-jump, before heading back up through Buckland, past Tesco and onto the Sandwich road.
And then up the Canterbury road before heading out onto the marshes to Preston. Preston as the freezer is empty and so we had to call in at the butchers. Only, due to flooding, we had to be careful and use the main road, and that ended at Preston as the Grove Ferry road is under several feet of flood water.
So, I load up on meat, meat and more meat, before we retrace our tyretracks back to Sandwich and then home. And by then we were more than ready for the first coffee of the day! And breakfast.
And so the day settles down with me messing around with the photos I have taken, listening to the radio, and then snoozing on the sofa when it all gets too much.
Its FA cup weekend and once again City's interest has long since faded, and so I have just a passing interest in it. I seem to be more interested in the sofa and sleeping though.
After dinner we head out to Deal as the winds had died and the clouds parted and the just passed full moon was abroad and I thought it might make for fine photography. We park near the pier and walk to the castle and back, snapping away. The moon glistens on the sea like a silver carpet, and contrasts with warm light of the streetlights.
We get back in the car and drive a little further so I can check the beer at the Prince Albert, which wasn't up to much, but we end up talking to a couple at the bar whilst we drink, and what could have been a quiet drink turned into something much more enjoyable as we swapped tales of travel in Britain and in the US.
We drive home by the light of the silvery, almost full moon. And the power of internal combustion. And I'm thinking, I love weekends......
A day of rest. what could be better than laying in bed until nine just enjoying not having to get up for work? Well, apparently, my body thinks otherwise and I'm laying in bed from five waiting until it begins to get light.
I get up, feed the cats and make coffee. Then I decide we should go down the bay to see the sunrise and see if there are any big waves breaking. As once again we have a howling gale blowing, but it seems high tide was in the wee small hours and so after we arrive down in the bay we find the sea a long way out, but more of the beach having been deposited on the promenade.
we take some shots, walk down to the edge of beach where the chalk makes rock pools, of a sort, take more shots. Then decide to head to Shakespeare Beach to see some real waves.
Back up the hill, onto the Deal road then down Jubilee Way to be confronted by a huge queue of traffic. No problem, we just do a turn in the road and head past the Duke of York's to the castle and down into town and out onto Town Wall Street. Where all of Europe's trucks are waiting for a berth on a ferry back to La Belle France. Apparently, due to the storm last night, the port had been closed since one. And the queue was building.
Past Burlington House.
Past the Megger building.
Up past Aycliffe.
Up past Samphire Hoe.
All exits off the main road back into town were blocked by trucks, so we had to head to Capel le Ferne where we knew we could get back on the Old Folkestone Road back into town. Only, wouldn't the views from the cliffs down onto the Warren be good?
Let's see.
We get out of the car, only for the doors to be ripped out of our hands by the gale. We walk up onto the grass, leaning at an angle of 45 degrees we just about manage to stay upright. I have to switch the camera to sports mode to get a shutter speed that allows for non-blurry shots as I am buffeted by the winds. But it is exhilarating, it must be what it is like to free fall parachute as our faces are pushed into comedic shapes by the wind.
We get back into the car, and decide that due to the traffic, we should get our chores done and stay home. At least for a while. We head down the Old Folkestone Road being tail-gated by a lorry hoping to queue-jump, before heading back up through Buckland, past Tesco and onto the Sandwich road.
And then up the Canterbury road before heading out onto the marshes to Preston. Preston as the freezer is empty and so we had to call in at the butchers. Only, due to flooding, we had to be careful and use the main road, and that ended at Preston as the Grove Ferry road is under several feet of flood water.
So, I load up on meat, meat and more meat, before we retrace our tyretracks back to Sandwich and then home. And by then we were more than ready for the first coffee of the day! And breakfast.
And so the day settles down with me messing around with the photos I have taken, listening to the radio, and then snoozing on the sofa when it all gets too much.
Its FA cup weekend and once again City's interest has long since faded, and so I have just a passing interest in it. I seem to be more interested in the sofa and sleeping though.
After dinner we head out to Deal as the winds had died and the clouds parted and the just passed full moon was abroad and I thought it might make for fine photography. We park near the pier and walk to the castle and back, snapping away. The moon glistens on the sea like a silver carpet, and contrasts with warm light of the streetlights.
We get back in the car and drive a little further so I can check the beer at the Prince Albert, which wasn't up to much, but we end up talking to a couple at the bar whilst we drink, and what could have been a quiet drink turned into something much more enjoyable as we swapped tales of travel in Britain and in the US.
We drive home by the light of the silvery, almost full moon. And the power of internal combustion. And I'm thinking, I love weekends......
Saturday, 15 February 2014
Saturday 15th february 2014
Thursday.
and so, for a change, I head into the office in Ramsgate as I knew I would need the services of a scanner and printer and much better for them to pay rather than us. Us who do not have a functioning printer.
After dropping Jools off, I head up out of Dover and onto Deal and Sandwich. The fields are, obviously, saturated, and the roads have much standing water. But it is no trouble to get into work. However, even with the winds having calmed down the previous evening, the monkeys returned to shore, and the office, as it was too rough to climb a turbine. I had been given the manager's office, so I did have peace and quiet, which was nice.
I manage to finish all I needed to by three, so take the opportunity to head along Military Road to snap the late afternoon sunshine in Pegwell Bay. Now no ferries call here, traffic is very light, and the sand which has drifted across the road at the roundabout is getting deeper.
People are walking their dogs, whilst others are just out for the pleasure of it. I snap them all, all in the glorious warm sunshine.
I pack up as I have to get to Dover to meet Jools off the bus, and in doing so I see from the bridge on the Sandwich by-ass that the River Stour is pretty much in full flood. The road at Grove Ferry is flooded, as a=are other roads in the vicinity of the river. But my way is fine.
And thanks to my flu, or me recovering from flu, and the wheezing I am hearing all the time, I think it better that I skip the cross-trainer once again.
Friday.
How can it be that I feel even worse this morning that I did yesterday? Lack of sleep does not help I know, but I could quite happily go to sleep all day. At least the commute is just walking down the stairs and switching the computer on.
I write mails, answer phone calls. and in-between I cough loudly for the entertainment of the cats.
The day passes.
In the evening we decide to head out because both of us have been feeling so crap we felt we really should make the effort. We drive out to Deal as I wanted to try another micropub, and this one is on the POTY list, so I HAD to visit this one.
It is in an old corner shop, the staff were friendly, the beer excellent. Jools has a nice cider, so we're both happy. We need to find somewhere to eat, but it being Valentine's Day most places are full. The Indian opposite said they had a table at half nine, the usual place we use on The Strand had a line right out the door. Our last chance is the Raj in Whitfield.
They manage to squeeze us on a large table, and despite being so busy we got our food in good time.
Phew. Bed o'clock.
Just time to try the new camera out on the full moon almost visible through the clouds. Even handheld, I get the shot. Amazing.
and so, for a change, I head into the office in Ramsgate as I knew I would need the services of a scanner and printer and much better for them to pay rather than us. Us who do not have a functioning printer.
After dropping Jools off, I head up out of Dover and onto Deal and Sandwich. The fields are, obviously, saturated, and the roads have much standing water. But it is no trouble to get into work. However, even with the winds having calmed down the previous evening, the monkeys returned to shore, and the office, as it was too rough to climb a turbine. I had been given the manager's office, so I did have peace and quiet, which was nice.
I manage to finish all I needed to by three, so take the opportunity to head along Military Road to snap the late afternoon sunshine in Pegwell Bay. Now no ferries call here, traffic is very light, and the sand which has drifted across the road at the roundabout is getting deeper.
People are walking their dogs, whilst others are just out for the pleasure of it. I snap them all, all in the glorious warm sunshine.
I pack up as I have to get to Dover to meet Jools off the bus, and in doing so I see from the bridge on the Sandwich by-ass that the River Stour is pretty much in full flood. The road at Grove Ferry is flooded, as a=are other roads in the vicinity of the river. But my way is fine.
And thanks to my flu, or me recovering from flu, and the wheezing I am hearing all the time, I think it better that I skip the cross-trainer once again.
Friday.
How can it be that I feel even worse this morning that I did yesterday? Lack of sleep does not help I know, but I could quite happily go to sleep all day. At least the commute is just walking down the stairs and switching the computer on.
I write mails, answer phone calls. and in-between I cough loudly for the entertainment of the cats.
The day passes.
In the evening we decide to head out because both of us have been feeling so crap we felt we really should make the effort. We drive out to Deal as I wanted to try another micropub, and this one is on the POTY list, so I HAD to visit this one.
It is in an old corner shop, the staff were friendly, the beer excellent. Jools has a nice cider, so we're both happy. We need to find somewhere to eat, but it being Valentine's Day most places are full. The Indian opposite said they had a table at half nine, the usual place we use on The Strand had a line right out the door. Our last chance is the Raj in Whitfield.
They manage to squeeze us on a large table, and despite being so busy we got our food in good time.
Phew. Bed o'clock.
Just time to try the new camera out on the full moon almost visible through the clouds. Even handheld, I get the shot. Amazing.
Thursday, 13 February 2014
The explanation
"Hold stick near centre of its length. Moisten pointed end in mouth. Insert in tooth space, blunt end next to gum. Use gentle in-out motion."
—The toothpick instructions that annoyed Wonko.
John Watson, also known as Wonko the Sane was a marine biologist and scientist who lived in coastal California with his wife, Arcane Jill Watson. The pair lived in a curious place called 'The Outside of the Asylum'.
John calls himself 'Wonko' in order to remind himself that a scientist must be like a child in having no pre-assumed notions - 'Wonko' being a childhood nickname bestowed by his mother. Wonko added the epithet 'the Sane' to his name in order to reassure people of his sanity. That sanity was called into question frequently, not least because of Wonko's repeated insistence that he was visited by green-winged angels on scooters.
The Asylum
The Asylum was set up one day after Watson came across a set of detailed instructions on a set of toothpicks. Watson, distressed and fearing for the world's sanity, built 'The Asylum' to put it in and help it get better. The Asylum is a four-walled house turned inside out. That which one would be inclined to take as the door into the house opens into a lawn with benches and walking paths. This is the area that Watson calls Outside the Asylum. Thus, the inside of the asylum contains the entire world, save for that small area. Within that small 'outside' area, Watson has mounted the instructions for the toothpicks, in order to discourage himself and others from going back into the asylum, i.e. returning to the mad world.
http://hitchhikers.wikia.com/wiki/Wonko_the_Sane
—The toothpick instructions that annoyed Wonko.
John Watson, also known as Wonko the Sane was a marine biologist and scientist who lived in coastal California with his wife, Arcane Jill Watson. The pair lived in a curious place called 'The Outside of the Asylum'.
John calls himself 'Wonko' in order to remind himself that a scientist must be like a child in having no pre-assumed notions - 'Wonko' being a childhood nickname bestowed by his mother. Wonko added the epithet 'the Sane' to his name in order to reassure people of his sanity. That sanity was called into question frequently, not least because of Wonko's repeated insistence that he was visited by green-winged angels on scooters.
The Asylum
The Asylum was set up one day after Watson came across a set of detailed instructions on a set of toothpicks. Watson, distressed and fearing for the world's sanity, built 'The Asylum' to put it in and help it get better. The Asylum is a four-walled house turned inside out. That which one would be inclined to take as the door into the house opens into a lawn with benches and walking paths. This is the area that Watson calls Outside the Asylum. Thus, the inside of the asylum contains the entire world, save for that small area. Within that small 'outside' area, Watson has mounted the instructions for the toothpicks, in order to discourage himself and others from going back into the asylum, i.e. returning to the mad world.
http://hitchhikers.wikia.com/wiki/Wonko_the_Sane
Thursday 13th February 2014
Still not in Sweden......
Yesterday, I did venture down from my sick bed to make a hot lemon, and so I sat on the sofa to watch the latest on stormageddon. Yes, stormageddon, the latest storm to sweep across the Atlantic and try to blow Britain off the map.
What I saw was an apparently endless series of reports from correspondents either standing, or trying to stand, on a windy beach or nearly ankle deep on some suburban street in the Thames Valley. Its almost as if they believe we, the viewers at home, cannot imagine what a stormy sea or some minor flooding looks like.
In fact I have seen a cloud before. And I have seen a flooded road before. Really.
There was one report where the reporter was standing in the lea of The Cobb at Lyme Regis, and waves were breaking over the Cobb and he was saying, look at that water! It stings like needles on my skin. Well, and whose fault is that? Did we really need you to stand there? Could you not stood up on the cliffs or in a beach shelter and use the telephoto lens?
This is not to take anything away from those affected by the stormy seas, high tides and flooding. Its just it all has ramped up now that Metroland has been affected along the Thames Valley. Its almost that people living in the Thames Valley, Staines-on-Thames (SIC) and their flooding is more newsworthy than the flooding in Somerset that has been going on for six weeks or more. And then old Moonface says at PMQs that ‘money is no object’ in the rescues. Only the whips office put out a clarification as to what ‘money is no object’ means, and is not really a blank cheque.
That will be a comfort to those with water lapping up to the light switches in their living rooms.
Yesterday, I did venture down from my sick bed to make a hot lemon, and so I sat on the sofa to watch the latest on stormageddon. Yes, stormageddon, the latest storm to sweep across the Atlantic and try to blow Britain off the map.
What I saw was an apparently endless series of reports from correspondents either standing, or trying to stand, on a windy beach or nearly ankle deep on some suburban street in the Thames Valley. Its almost as if they believe we, the viewers at home, cannot imagine what a stormy sea or some minor flooding looks like.
In fact I have seen a cloud before. And I have seen a flooded road before. Really.
There was one report where the reporter was standing in the lea of The Cobb at Lyme Regis, and waves were breaking over the Cobb and he was saying, look at that water! It stings like needles on my skin. Well, and whose fault is that? Did we really need you to stand there? Could you not stood up on the cliffs or in a beach shelter and use the telephoto lens?
This is not to take anything away from those affected by the stormy seas, high tides and flooding. Its just it all has ramped up now that Metroland has been affected along the Thames Valley. Its almost that people living in the Thames Valley, Staines-on-Thames (SIC) and their flooding is more newsworthy than the flooding in Somerset that has been going on for six weeks or more. And then old Moonface says at PMQs that ‘money is no object’ in the rescues. Only the whips office put out a clarification as to what ‘money is no object’ means, and is not really a blank cheque.
That will be a comfort to those with water lapping up to the light switches in their living rooms.
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