Posted in Random Thoughts

Funny Weather

We are experiencing the weirdest February weather ever. Usually February are sunny and warm enough to chuck the sweater and go around in plain clothes.

But this year, we have the kind of fog that puts early January to shame. In the morning till 11 am, I can’t see the trees across the road. I wash clothes shivering in my double layer of sweaters praying for the sun. Water drips from the wet clothes in the process of hanging them on the roof. I, too, am wet. There is no hope for me getting dry here, so I walk down two floors, head hung in dejection.

Then the Sun shines and hides, shines and hides, and shines and hides. And then, once it is out at 1 pm, the roof is hot enough to turn egg into an omelette. I have to chuck all sweaters and run in the shade downstairs to avoid a heatstroke!

Not sure whether the weather is doing it on purpose. All I can say is, “Haha! Very funny!”

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Posted in Random Thoughts

The Weather man

I own a Weather app on my mobile phone. It seems that weather has a love-hate relation with this app. If it predicts 10% chances of rainfall, it will rain by the bucket load. But at 90% chances, not a cloud shows up. It reminds me of this excerpt from Three Men in a Boat (1889) by Jerome K. Jerome.

I do think that, of all the silly, irritating tomfoolishness by which we are plagued, this “weather-forecast” fraud is about the most aggravating. It “forecasts” precisely what happened yesterday or a the day before, and precisely the opposite of what is going to happen to-day.

I remember a holiday of mine being completely ruined one late autumn by our paying attention to the weather report of the local newspaper. “Heavy showers, with thunderstorms, may be expected to-day,” it would say on Monday, and so we would give up our picnic, and stop indoors all day, waiting for the rain. And people would pass the house, going off in wagonettes and coaches as jolly and merry as could be, the sun shining out, and not a cloud to be seen.

“Ah!” we said, as we stood looking out at them through the window, “won’t they come home soaked!”

And we chuckled to think how wet they were going to get, and came back and stirred the fire, and got our books, and arranged our specimens of seaweed and cockle shells. By twelve o’clock, with the sun pouring into the room, the heat became quite oppressive, and we wondered when those heavy showers and occasional thunderstorms were going to begin.

“Ah! they’ll come in the afternoon, you’ll find,” we said to each other. “Oh, WON’T those people get wet. What a lark!”

At one o’clock, the landlady would come in to ask if we weren’t going out, as it seemed such a lovely day.
“No, no,” we replied, with a knowing chuckle, “not we. WE don’t mean to get wet – no, no.”

And when the afternoon was nearly gone, and still there was no sign of rain, we tried to cheer ourselves up with the idea that it would come down all at once, just as the people had started for home, and were out of the reach of any shelter, and that they would thus get more drenched than ever. But not a drop ever fell, and it finished a grand day, and a lovely night after it.


The next morning we would read that it was going to be a “warm, fine to set-fair day; much heat;” and we would dress ourselves in flimsy things, and go out, and, half-an-hour after we had started, it would commence to rain hard, and a bitterly cold wind would spring up, and both would keep on steadily for the whole day, and we would come home with colds and rheumatism all over us, and go to bed.

Blogger’s note: Weird how even after 130 years, satellite imaging and newest technology, the Weatherman is just as clueless as ever.

Another Blogger’s note: You may think why I quote from this book so often, but this book is my personal antidote for all kinds of depression, sadness and ‘general disinclination to work‘.