Over
breakfast I read all the horror stories on Facebook about the
terrible journeys people had last night on their way home. Trips
which should have taken an hour at most had taken over six hours.
Folkestone and Dover had been effectively been cut off from the rest
of the world, and relatives only thirty miles away in Sussex had
spent the night in their cars.
I
left for work early, expecting the worst. I found my journey was fine
- no delays at all. I arrived at work to find that I was lucky to
have been able to get there. Others had not had such an easy journey.
Dover was still cut off and traffic heading south on the M20 had come
to a standstill. Snow can be so local.
People
arrived as the morning went on, and we all did our bit before braving
the elements on the way home. It looked to me as though most of the
elements had melted, and wouldn't need much braving. But I didn't
like to say anything.
As
I drove home I listened to the radio as always. And my piss boiled,
as it is wont to do. The weather forecast as delivered by BBC Radio 4
bore no relation to either the weather forecast as delivered by the
BBC's own weather website, or to reality.
Here's
an interesting question: it is acceptable to photograph your food
when dining out? Apparently some restaurants are banning people
photographing their dinner. I've often taken snapshots of what I'm
scoffing - for blogging purposes as much as any other reason. Why
don't establishments want their produce photographed? Are they afraid
of bad publicity? I don't think I'd like to eat somewhere where I
couldn't photograph my scoff.
Also
on the news was the results of the recent
ballot that took place in the Falkland Islands. The locals were
asked if they wished to remain a British territory. 99.8% of them
said that they did. Hardly surprising really, bearing in mind the
threat of Argentinian invasion. Was that really thirty years ago? I
can remember having a "Falk Off Argentina" T shirt. I
probably still have it somewhere. And having lost some weight it
would probably fit me again.
Talking
of voting, the cardinals are all casting their ballots
for another Pope. Here's a radical suggestion - I wonder if they
might change the office in the same way they did that of the office
of Poet Laureate so that the office is held for a fixed term, rather
than for life. After all being the leading figure of a world wide
organisation must be hard work, and does it really make sense to give
the position to someone who's (usually) well over retirement age when
they take up office.
After
all, in China where it's traditionally often a gerontocracy the
bosses are all dyeing their hair in an attempt to appear young.
I
don't mind the late shifts, but I don't like missing the Tuesday
gathering...
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