I woke up in the night, and the time was 0.13. I woke up this morning and the time was 0.13. It was only then I realised I was relying on the microwave, which had been paused at 13 seconds, so I’ve no idea what time I was up the first time, but I know what time it was the second time. However, the first time, I was woken by the overflow from the pitched roof, which the building designer thoughtfully thought to leave as a pipe hanging halfway across the narrow lane right beside the bedroom window. Had I suitable skills and a ladder, I’d stick an extension on the thing and let the runoff land in the ruin over the wall, rather than two feet away from my head, but hey, one day…
There was also thunder and lightning, some water through the roof in the porch and bathroom, but nothing major. We were going to fill the cracks and apply the concrete paint the other day, but the weather turned, and luckily we didn’t get to it; had we, it would have all been washed away overnight. And there is more to come, they say. (I am in danger of becoming a weather channel here, but it gives me something to whittle about). It’s either going to be heavy all day, in which case I might have to change my dentist appointment because the kayak is in the shop, and I’m not attempting the rapids of the Kali Strata without it, or it’s going to be on and off and not too heavy. These days, the weather depends on which forecast app you use, and everyone uses a different one. This, it seems, can lead to all manner of misinformation and entertainment.
You’re sitting in a café listening to other people’s conversations, and hear a game of one-upmanship as people defend their weather apps. Such conversations can easily descend into chaos.
‘We’re going to have rain today.’
‘Nay. Mine shows it as only patchy cloud. We’ll be reet.’
‘Mine’s always accurate. See? There’s a typhoon blowing in from Kalymnos.’
‘Typhoon? In the Med?’
‘That’s what it says, and it’s never wrong.’
‘You only get typhoons in the Northwestern Pacific Basin.’ (This is the ‘me’ of the conversation, the pedant, but the others are so keen to be heard and affirmed, they take no notice of reason.)
‘Aye, well, we’re northwest of somewhere, aren’t we? You can’t go wrong with Sneeze.’
‘Wi’ what?’
‘Sneeze. It’s me new weather app.’
‘Nay, mate. You want Accu-Rabbit. It’s run be A-One.’
‘Be what?’ Looks. ‘That’s AI, you cabbage. Can’t trust that. Wife asked it why I was getting these headaches every night ’round bedtime. It told her I had a tuba on me brain.’
‘But you play the euphonium.’
‘Aye, that’s what I said, but it insisted it were a tuba, then it asked her if she’d like to know more about who invented it, when, and why.’
‘Oh, aye?’
‘Eighteen thirty-five.’
‘Is it? We’ve missed the boat.’
‘Can’t leave now anyroad. It’s raining.’
‘See? Told you. You can’t go wrong with Sneeze.’
And so on. If I want to know what the elements have in store, I look up, make up my own mind, and get on with it. If it’s too dangerous to go out at ten, I’ll change my appointment. If it looks reasonable, I’ll take my brolly and off I’ll go. One thing it does give me, though, is plenty of opportunity to show some of Neil’s dramatic shots of the skies we’re currently, if temporarily, living under.
Have a [<insert > Good ~ Pleasant ~ Wet ~ *random* >end>] day.
PS: It’s now 05.25, and it’s chucking it down.