Musings

This week's blog post is a day late. Again.

Sorry about that.

Now, today, I don't really have one big thing* to blog about. Instead, I have three smaller things that, while they may not be worthy of a blog post of their own, add up to a perfectly adequate blog post. There's a picture and everything!

The first thing is a short rant about rainfall.

It seems that people are incapable of remembering what the weather was like in the past. Indeed, all they seem able to do s look out of the window and convince themselves that whatever it's like outside at that very moment is what the weather's been like since time began.

Take, for example a post by a friend on Facebook recently, where he bemoaned the fact that it had been pretty much raining since October. He conveniently forgot the fact that we'd just had the driest March for nearly 60 years, with 25 days of sunshine. In fact January, February, March and May 2012 all had significantly below average rainfall based on the 1979-2000 data on which the Met Office base their figures, leaving only April and June with significantly more rain than average.

So yeah. We've had a dry year. In the words of the twin-set lady:


On to less ranty stuff, now.

Dr K and I were enjoying a bit of rock music, courtesy of the Kerrang channel, when Muse came on.

'I assume,' said Dr K, 'That you're getting Muse to come and play at my birthday party this year.'

'Sure,' I said. 'They'll have to come in disguise, though. We don't want hordes of fans crashing the party.'

'What will they come disguised as?' asked Dr K.

'My fingers,' I said. 'Look, this one is Matthew Bellamy.'. I extended my middle finger for her inspection.

She hit me.


From domestic abuse to cats, now.

Dexter appears to have developed a new meow over the last week. Rather than his usual, rather girlish meow, he has acquired a new, huskier, deeper meow.

It's possible that he has developed a sore throat from rocking way too hard at a Karhu gig.

Or maybe he just has a cold.

I suspect it actually has something to do with the new addition to our household, though.

Perhaps he's trying to sound tough in front of the kitten.

I choose to believe that the stress of putting up with Higgin's nonsense has caused him to develop a 60-day smoking habit.



( * Yeah, yeah. Get your snickering out of the way now. )