Torrid West Yorkshire rainfall greeted tired eyes when looking out of my bedroom window upon waking.
However, I resolved not to get too downhearted at this sight. Instead using prevailing weather conditions as a motivating tool for me to put pen to paper. After all, why would I want to wander out in this meteorological mayhem when I can remain in the comfort dryness and warmth of my flat.
As a result of this approach, hopefully the chaste page before me will soon be peppered with creative notions. Epiphanies delivered with similar intensity as the rainwater currently trampolining on avenues and alleyways outside.
Apparently, due to these inclement conditions, the Met Office has issued a yellow weather warning for the Leeds area today. Without research I’m unsure what meteorological behaviour warrants a yellow warning. With whimsy, though, I’d like to think it means don’t go out without wearing your yellow sou’wester to keep you dry.
For the uninitiated, the Met Office (Meteorological Office) is the UK’s national weather and climate service. For the layman, they are a bit like your neighbour Old Ted who claims to predict upcoming weather by how his bunions behave… Only, the Met Office use significantly more scientific data, and are ordinarily more accurate… Well, sometimes anyhow.
When we were in our later teens, my brother Ian wanted to become a BBC weather forecaster. He didn’t have much of an interest in meteorology, his ambition for securing the role came solely after hearing my lie the Beeb’s weather man John Kettley got paid in lager.
Our kid is travelling down from his Gateshead home tomorrow to visit me for a few days. In the current zeitgeist, visits securing him lager without the caveat of first providing a weather forecast.
As I wrote in a recent blog, during Ian’s visit we intend to scatter some of our mothers’ ashes in her favourite childhood park. An emotional occasion which hopefully won’t witness episodes of my younger sibling’s habitual clumsiness, such as a spillage on the car journey to the park… On reflection, it may be prudent to take along my mini handheld Gtech in the event of spills. The device affording me opportunity to return any spilled contents back into mum’s urn.
Hopefully we won’t have the same misunderstanding faced when burying some of our father’s ashes in 2018. Our kid mishearing my request of “Bring a trowel to dig a hole for dad’s remains.” as “Bring an owl to dig a hole for dad’s remains.” … Thankfully, the bird possessed a long enough beak to excavate the soil, meaning Ian’s error didn’t prove too problematic.
Looking out of my apartment window I catch sight of a young mum with her toddler getting drenched at the bus stop. Her pink domed plastic umbrella not providing full coverage for either lass or offspring,
Witnessing how sodden they look makes me feel like venturing across the road to ask if she wants sheltering from the rain in my car. However, I realise such a move would be inappropriate… Circumstances which just show there can be a downside to taking out a restraining order!
Mercifully, the bus has just picked up the mother and daughter, affording them some respite from the rainstorm. The irony of the woman wearing a drenched Superdry branded coat not lost on me.
Clad in grey oilskin coats, trousers and wellington boots, a middle-aged couple have just walked past my window on the other side of Barnsley Road. Each soaked protagonist of this tale carrying an unbranded carrier bag. Judging by their body language, both thin plastic carriers appear heavy.
With the sacks being unbranded it’s difficult to ascertain whether they contain groceries, or the couple are transporting a bag full of dog poop from a very large hound. However, as they aren’t accompanied by a hound, I’m going to plump for the former explanation.
Right, I need to bring this narrative to a conclusion. I am now going to continue my day of staying dry indoors by jumping in the shower… Oops, there appears to be a flaw in my itinerary.
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