Monday, March 18, 2013
I spent twelve hours driving north/south/north/south at times into various trance inducing starfield blizzards this weekend and as a result I'm happy but bombed out (and low on fuel). The journey will be remembered also for too much tea and the awkward act of urinating in the dark somewhere on the A90 in gale force Arctic conditions. You see visiting the lands of my dead and exiled impoverished fathers and taxi driving the electronically aware sprogs is always a heady mix of the dangerous and the delightful. In the end it was worth all the rain and locally produced steak mince, sausage and time spent labouring at a hot stove. The fishcake based aphrodisiac was a departure and especially delightful. But now it's a snowy Monday night and we'll be breaking out the wolf skins and shovels come the frosty morning should we decide to rejoin the ranks of our hungry and civilised co-workers. The weather forecaster pipes up that a gloomy but meaningless Amber Warning Situation is imminent and about to do a precision pattern of white carpet bombing in this area. All that and me without a stock of the basic soup building vegetables and emergency candles. I did have a sudden urge to rush out to the nearest Co-op and purchase all the bread and milk I could carry but WTF. I might just download another 20p book from Amazingzon and bury my head under the covers.
P.S. Game of Thrones and Mod Fam are back on next week, life may be getting better even while the weather worsens.