What's your weather like? (2)

Bright blue cloudless sky from first light, warm enough for "shirt skeeve order" by 11.00am.
Great day for getting things done in the garden.... I played golf instead...as usual!
Clouded over after lunch, spots of rain by 3.00pm.

 

Here is what we woke to today, snow...........uggggggggg!!!!!!

 

Uggggg indeed Penny.

It's gone back to being mild and wet here today - what weather forecasters call sunny showers. Almost t shirt weather though.

 

Dry here at the moment and I think it is supposed to be dry here today so lets hope so

 

Cool and raining here.

 

Lovely day after the early frost - no golf today but will be out there tomorrow.

Been emptying summer containers for the lasst three days, now have a greenhouse full of fuschias, pelargoniums, etc. although not sure if they will all survive looking at the droopy and damp foliage.

 

A hard frost this morning and quite cold. It's OK for those office workers tucked up in their nice warm centrally heated offices, we had to cope with this!



Still it got a bit warmer towards lunchtime but not enough to take off a sweater.

I parred this and the next three...then it all went a downhill.. but only a bit.

 

Sister brought me a cup of tea in my frost covered caravan this morn & was horrified that i'd slept with the window open. Didn't knotice under 3 duvets.

Home now, the sun heated up the hot water to 36c.

temp dropping like a stone now sun has gone down.

Will make a change to have some heating tonight.

 

This going to sound a bit like the Leacock "Self Made Men" short story. But I can remember as a child, waking up and having to scrape the ice of the inside of my bedroom window to see outside.

 

Oh yes, still remember doing that DR, we didn't have central heating till I was about 10. Remember dragging your clothes under the blanket to get dressed & then running the gauntlet of the frozen hall to get to the coal fire downstairs.

Probably why I don't mind sleeping out in it now. Just remember to keep your butane lighter in the bed, butane wont work below freezing. You know its cold when the lemonade next to the bed has frozen solid.

 

When i was a lad, many many moons ago . we moved from the tenements to a new build on the Perimiter of Glasgow. this Area was on the highest ground in the Glasgow area ,if there was snow we got it there ,it was absolutely frozen in winter and the housing was four in a
block (STEEL HOUSING):(. these steel houses were built just after WW2 ).they had no insulation ,these houses were Standard built, living room/kitchen/ bathroom/ 3 bedrooms .
the only heating was a coal fire in the living room and this was required to heat the whole house .as i say the house was all steel without wall/loft insulation i had many a shock during a thunder lightning storm just touching the window frame. D.R. back to the ice on your bedroom window ( LUXURY) :D . our houses were so cold, the windows and the walls were frozen. :flag:. when we woke in the morning we did not go to the bathroom to wash our face, we just reached up above our heads with our hands on the wall and rubbed our faces. :D
music .

 

No I'm not having that!

Just for those who might not have seen this the first time I posted it.

This lot didn't know when they were well off compared with the hardships I endured in my youth.


Self-Made Men by Stephen Leacock

[align=left]They were both what we commonly call successful business
men--men with well-fed faces, heavy signet rings on
fingers like sausages, and broad, comfortable waistcoats,
a yard and a half round the equator. They were seated
opposite each other at a table of a first-class restaurant,
and had fallen into conversation while waiting to give
their order to the waiter. Their talk had drifted back
to their early days and how each had made his start in
life when he first struck New York. [/align]

[align=left]"I tell you what, Jones," one of them was saying, "I
shall never forget my first few years in this town. By
George, it was pretty uphill work! Do you know, sir, when
I first struck this place, I hadn't more than fifteen
cents to my name, hadn't a rag except what I stood up
in, and all the place I had to sleep in--you won't
believe it, but it's a gospel fact just the same--was an
empty tar barrel. No, sir," he went on, leaning back and
closing up his eyes into an expression of infinite
experience, "no, sir, a fellow accustomed to luxury like
you has simply no idea what sleeping out in a tar barrel
and all that kind of thing is like."
"My dear Robinson," the other man rejoined briskly, "if
you imagine I've had no experience of hardship of that
sort, you never made a bigger mistake in your life. Why,
when I first walked into this town I hadn't a cent, sir,
not a cent, and as for lodging, all the place I had for
months and months was an old piano box up a lane, behind
a factory. Talk about hardship, I guess I had it pretty
rough! You take a fellow that's used to a good warm tar
barrel and put him into a piano box for a night or two,
and you'll see mighty soon--"
"My dear fellow," Robinson broke in with some irritation,
"you merely show that you don't know what a tar barrel's
like. Why, on winter nights, when you'd be shut in there
in your piano box just as snug as you please, I used to
lie awake shivering, with the draught fairly running in
at the bunghole at the back."
"Draught!" sneered the other man, with a provoking laugh,
"draught! Don't talk to me about draughts. This box I
speak of had a whole darned plank off it, right on the
north side too. I used to sit there studying in the
evenings, and the snow would blow in a foot deep. And
yet, sir," he continued more quietly, "though I know
you'll not believe it, I don't mind admitting that some
of the happiest days of my life were spent in that same
old box. Ah, those were good old times! Bright, innocent
days, I can tell you. I'd wake up there in the mornings
and fairly shout with high spirits. Of course, you may
not be able to stand that kind of life--"
"Not stand it!" cried Robinson fiercely; "me not stand
it! By gad! I'm made for it. I just wish I had a taste
of the old life again for a while. And as for innocence!
Well, I'll bet you you weren't one-tenth as innocent as
I was; no, nor one-fifth, nor one-third! What a grand
old life it was! You'll swear this is a darned lie and
refuse to believe it--but I can remember evenings when
I'd have two or three fellows in, and we'd sit round and
play pedro by a candle half the night."
"Two or three!" laughed Jones; "why, my dear fellow, I've
known half a dozen of us to sit down to supper in my
piano box, and have a game of pedro afterwards; yes, and
charades and forfeits, and every other darned thing.
Mighty good suppers they were too! By Jove, Robinson,
you fellows round this town who have ruined your digestions
with high living, have no notion of the zest with which
a man can sit down to a few potato peelings, or a bit of
broken pie crust, or--"
"Talk about hard food," interrupted the other, "I guess
I know all about that. Many's the time I've breakfasted
off a little cold porridge that somebody was going to
throw away from a back-door, or that I've gone round to
a livery stable and begged a little bran mash that they
intended for the pigs. I'll venture to say I've eaten
more hog's food--"
"Hog's food!" shouted Robinson, striking his fist savagely
on the table, "I tell you hog's food suits me better than--"
He stopped speaking with a sudden grunt of surprise as
the waiter appeared with the question:
"What may I bring you for dinner, gentlemen?"
"Dinner!" said Jones, after a moment of silence, "dinner!
Oh, anything, nothing--I never care what I eat--give me
a little cold porridge, if you've got it, or a chunk of
salt pork--anything you like, it's all the same to me."
The waiter turned with an impassive face to Robinson.
"You can bring me some of that cold porridge too," he
said, with a defiant look at Jones; "yesterday's, if you
have it, and a few potato peelings and a glass of skim
milk."
There was a pause. Jones sat back in his chair and looked
hard across at Robinson. For some moments the two men
gazed into each other's eyes with a stern, defiant
intensity. Then Robinson turned slowly round in his seat
and beckoned to the waiter, who was moving off with the
muttered order on his lips.
"Here, waiter," he said with a savage scowl, "I guess
I'll change that order a little. Instead of that cold
porridge I'll take--um, yes--a little hot partridge. And
you might as well bring me an oyster or two on the half
shell, and a mouthful of soup (mock-turtle, consomme,
anything), and perhaps you might fetch along a dab of
fish, and a little peck of Stilton, and a grape, or a
walnut."
The waiter turned to Jones.
"I guess I'll take the same," he said simply, and added;
"and you might bring a quart of champagne at the same
time."
And nowadays, when Jones and Robinson meet, the memory
of the tar barrel and the piano box is buried as far out
of sight as a home for the blind under a landslide.[/align]

 

Today is nice, i have some windows open, supposed to cool down later and rain moving in.

 

We had the rain today - all afternoon; thank goodness I managed a round of golf this morning before dashing off to the airport to collect my wife's sister ove from Canada. Tomorrow I return to the airport at 06.00 to collect my son and daughter returning from New York - busy busy...........

 

Rained all day yesterday. better today, the rain stopped for 2 hours:( music .