What

What a difference a day (or two) makes.

In true British style, I'm about to start some gentle weather discourse.

At the weekend it were boiling..... and now..... it's feeling like deep, dark autumn.

A ten degree temperature drop and some rather chilly winds have meant that my shorts and sunglasses are making way for socks and woolly hat.

It's decidedly cooler, and though there are promises that it'll pick up again by the weekend.... I'm not convinced.

I DID have fun at the weekend discussing the fact that it was "too hot" and bemoaning the scorching weather - in a very tongue-in-cheek manner with the overheated punters at the pub.  I knew that all too soon we'd be able to have a further conversation about the lack of summer and the bad weather we always have.... that's the advantage of working with drunk people.

So, I've tried to be a good boy.  I've tried to get back to my blog on several occasions, each time to be thwarted by such events as computers that refuse to work or a stomach that needs to be filled.

Just now, as an example, I received an email that wasn't really intended for me.... I had to forward it to someone else, and in order to do that I had to log in to a different mail account, find some mail with that person's email address , copy and paste between one email client and another, forward the mail..... it all takes time and provides endless opportunity for being sidetracked..... I rest my case, and I rest my feet on my case while I get my book out.

Point in question - one minute I'm typing my blog.... the next minute I'm reading and commenting on another blog..... then I hear the front door opening and I'm making a cup of tea for my mum..... time passes.... and passes......

And so, it comes to be that at some point I was hoping to post a few more pictures from THIS last trip to the borders area of Northumberland..... and of course, I end up posting pictures of fish and a previous trip to Northumberland....  it's more complicated than it needs to be.

In honour of a recent competitor on "Celebrity" Big Brother, I've made my very own internet based "wishlist" and you're all free to pick off as many items as you wish to send to me in exchange for, well, how about some gratuitously bad holiday snaps?

Here's my wishlist, and remember it's my birthday on the 24th September!!

Sod's law and Tupperware®

As soon as I mentioned the hot weather, you could have honestly predicted a steady drop in temperature. to the point where I even had to don a smart knitted item on my extremely toned upper body (thanks to Wii Fit - I am still overweight, but persistent if nothing else).

The other thing that the law of sod spoke to me about recently is my choice of Tupperware® container. It might seem trivial, but that's my middle name.... Tupperware® - just joking!! How come, whenever there's something that needs to be sealed with that yummy polycarbonate freshness and kept until it needs to be thrown away, then I reach for my plastic friends.... I choose an appropriate sized container, turn around to the work surface where said item destined for the fridge is waiting, and lo and behold.... the Tupperware® tardis effect has kicked in......

The size of container I have selected is always too big. I have tried selecting ones that I know to be too small, but whatever it is that needs to go into this controversially (potentially, but hotly denied) harmful plastic coffin, will still amply fit into the container.

Is it just me that has this refrigerated storage box related dilemma?

PS: Yorkshire Pud - Sorry to burst your little bubble of... well, let's not even imagine.... Love Soup is a BBC Sitcom, starring the fantastic Tamsin Greig and written by the talented David Renwick (of One Foot in the Grave fame)... it's very funny but I don't think many people know about it.

Scruffy.

The weather has changed.

We've had a few nice days, it's been great cycling weather and I've taken full advantage of it. Looking out the window today, you would never believe that it's been so nice. We have fog, wind and that characteristic sideways rain that seems to be the signature move of New Hey Road in Outlane!!

I've locked the doors, taken the phones off the hook, rolled my dog-shaped draught excluders up to the draughty bits, grown a beard, baked some bread, and I'm not going out.

Managed a few cheeky halves of beer at the splendid Star Inn Easter Beer Festival last evening. That pub is a credit to the licensed trade..... sixty... count them.... sixty beers to choose from.... breweries from as far afield as Glasgow and Cornwall.... all on hand pumps. Splendid. I'll be going again tomorrow and if I get my way I will be going on Saturday too!!! Muhahahahah!!

I still want to write something about my new toy, the CycloDS. In the meantime, if you have a Nintendo DS then just buy a CycloDS Evolution, I got mine from TechWizad, and you will see how good it is.

Here's a funny fact.... it is now one whole year &to the day) since I quit smoking. In those twelve months elapsed, I would have smoked fourteen thousand six hundred and forty cigarettes which would have cost me somewhere in the region of three thousand eight hundred and fifty quids!! (that's a bewildering seven thousand six hundred and thirty three US dollars).

Aftermath.

Seems half of Yorkshire is clearing up today.

We have had more than our fair share of rain over the last couple of days.

Some parts of Yorkshire have managed a month's rain in twenty-four hours.

For me, it hasn't been much worse than a cartload of ash tree pieces strewn about the lawn.

I'm quite fortunate to live on the top of a very large range of hills.

Not so the residents of Ulley in South Yorkshire, where the threat of a compromised dam has resulted in them being evacuated.

I won't harp on about individual cases like that.... have a look for yourself.

Amateur pictures.

Official report.

......

In other news, I wanted to mention a small concern of mine.

When I was a child, the tooth fairy was worth anything from five pence to twenty pence per tooth.

These days, the tooth fairy is paying out a whopping one pound per tooth.

By my calculations, the tooth fairy industry in Britain is currently worth a whopping twenty million pounds a year to our toothless shareholders.

Would it not make more sense to reward children who manage to keep their teeth embedded in their skulls?

Day three.

It's official. The monsoon season has claimed the market town of Barnsley. A crack team of police divers has been sent in, armed with free snorkels for everyone, and Barnsley has been widely acclaimed as being the Venice of the north.

All hail the new waterworld.

June, and it's been raining non-stop for three days now. I tried to fashion an ark, in order to escape the rising water, but armed with three empty plastic milk bottles and some duck tape.... well, let's just say I never watched Blue Peter, but I now have a milk bottle mobile hanging above my bed. It's pretty but I doubt it will save many lives.

I have turned the central heating on. Madness..... sheer and utter madness.

I can live with the cold.... I can live with the rain...... It's the bloody dankness that gets to me. There's no real daylight, it's grey and miserable, and very very dull. It is indeed grim up north.

Lately I have been made to imagine what life would be like without thumbs. I think I will elaborate on this tomorrow.

Slugs?? Eating them??? Preserved in salt????

So, I set about trying to find out if any of this were true. Do people eat slugs? What recipes are available? How do you cook them? What if they've been eating poisonous plants??

Anyroad, despite my pescetarian tendencies, and the fact that I will get called a bunny hugger, killing slugs does not cause me any emotional turmoil.

Cooking pot in hand, I venture out into the garden.

You know what? Slugs don't actually taste of much, and if you marinade them in vinegar (as opposed to salt - you silly Yorkshire Pudding) then the slime comes away quite easily.

So, armed with the concept that I can now eat anything that might trouble me...... I have feasted upon: Slug broth; Roland rat stew; Steven the squirrel enchiladas, and Gerry the gas meter reader fricassee.

Tune in tomorrow for an exciting thumb experiment.

One, two, three, four, I wish my thumb wasn't quite so sore.