Little prompts me to write on here nowadays. Something has to stir sufficient emotion (normally "anger" is the one of choice) and I have to have sufficient time (I have a breathing space before Christmas, and everything is wrapped...)
But "FOR FIVE MINUTES....!" (as a colleague of mine says to avoid swearing loudly when it wouldn't be appropriate...) "Hasn't John Lewis dropped off...??" (That's me saying that. Not her.)
It seems to be the only place one can buy a "traditional" advent calendar de nos jours. You know, one without the bit of moulded Kake-Brand-style cooking chocolate behind each door; one where you get a Christmassy picture, not one of something hideous and Disney; one where the small robin/star/(God Forbid) Baby Jesus isn't obscured utterly by some foil and 4cm2 transparent shaped plastic tray.
Anyway, I thought I was onto a winner this year, as I'd seen quite a classy 3-D example, having forgiven John Lewis for their advent calendar of a few year back when all the pictures were the bloody same. But the once respected and admired partnership has entered a terminal decline, it seems, and sold me one with two 18s.
I'm not an expert on these matters, but if making advent calendars were a task on The Apprentice, even Stuart Baggs would have worked out that 24 numbers, one of each, was crucial. (Do Amstrad make advent calendars? Just planning ahead for next year...)
Anyway, at this time of year, when peace and harmony become important for several minutes somewhere along the line, I curbed my Aggressive Personality Disorder and instead of marching back to John Lewis and haranguing them, I solved it myself, Blue Peter style. Let's say, in homage to Matt Baker, who should've won Strictly. But didn't.
NB If I'd solved it Blue Peter style in homage to Anthea Turner instead, I could have made the whole bloody thing from scratch. With Flakes. In a layby off the M40.
Showing posts with label winter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label winter. Show all posts
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
A Mrs Thatcher moment...
I suppose that I have this in common with a lot of people... I try not to fill my thoughts with Margaret Thatcher. But, earlier today, I thought about something she said 23 years ago.
I'm currently in mainland Europe, where it has snowed a lot...
(This is Mozart, in Salzburg, coping well with the "big freeze". Coping less well with the fact that he appears to be composing with a pencil, something which wasn't invented until 20 years after he died....)
...and here, they deal with the snow really well. It's 6-8 inches deep and the roads and the railways are all fine. Ahem, even the schools were open...
The fast, fairly luxurious, double-decker train from Munich got to Salzburg bang on time...
(...and that's in a different country. Through some Alps. Albeit small ones...)
And, of course, they get it all the time, so they are used to it. But there must be other underlying reasons why we're so rubbish at snow in the UK...
I wondered how, here, the trains were clean and reliable, how there were still conductors and ticket inspectors (plural) on the stations and on the trains, how the snow didn't bring it all to a grinding halt...
(Here at Ostbahnhof in Munich, this man spent the best part of 30 minutes clearing the snow from a platform and looked like he was enjoying it... He had a very substantial looking machine to help, but the two people doing it on our platform just had shovels, so no major investment needed...)
I'd decided that it was probably something to do with it not needing to make a profit; being a nationalised concern for the good of the people! Damn you, Mrs Thatcher, and your privatisation of all the train companies and the break up of the system!!
But it turns out that Deutsche Bahn is a private comany after all, so does need to make a profit. So that can't be it...
Anyway, I aksed Jon, who now lives here in Munich, why he thinks the public transport system is so good, how it manages to employ so many people, make a profit and not let a bit of (the wrong type - any type - of) snow bring it skidding to a halt. He gave a most complete and accurate answer in just three words...
"People use it..." he said.
And of course that makes sense.
When, in 1986, Mrs Thatcher said "A man who, beyond the age of 26, finds himself on a bus can count himself as a failure," she helped to make sure that, if you have to use public transport in the UK, that's in some way shameful - you're just cattle; too crap to have your own car. She also engineered the system which means that it costs £8 to get to Southampton and back from my house, whereas here, you can travel between Munich and Salzburg (and back) - 180 miles, between countries! - for £5.
Bless her.
(On the down side, the snow here is just something you have to get rid of to make the trains run. It's commonplace, so no-one plays with it - no snowmen, no snowball fights. I don't think that's Thatcher's fault. Probably just miserable Europeans...)
I'm currently in mainland Europe, where it has snowed a lot...
(This is Mozart, in Salzburg, coping well with the "big freeze". Coping less well with the fact that he appears to be composing with a pencil, something which wasn't invented until 20 years after he died....)
...and here, they deal with the snow really well. It's 6-8 inches deep and the roads and the railways are all fine. Ahem, even the schools were open...
The fast, fairly luxurious, double-decker train from Munich got to Salzburg bang on time...
(...and that's in a different country. Through some Alps. Albeit small ones...)
And, of course, they get it all the time, so they are used to it. But there must be other underlying reasons why we're so rubbish at snow in the UK...
I wondered how, here, the trains were clean and reliable, how there were still conductors and ticket inspectors (plural) on the stations and on the trains, how the snow didn't bring it all to a grinding halt...
(Here at Ostbahnhof in Munich, this man spent the best part of 30 minutes clearing the snow from a platform and looked like he was enjoying it... He had a very substantial looking machine to help, but the two people doing it on our platform just had shovels, so no major investment needed...)
I'd decided that it was probably something to do with it not needing to make a profit; being a nationalised concern for the good of the people! Damn you, Mrs Thatcher, and your privatisation of all the train companies and the break up of the system!!
But it turns out that Deutsche Bahn is a private comany after all, so does need to make a profit. So that can't be it...
Anyway, I aksed Jon, who now lives here in Munich, why he thinks the public transport system is so good, how it manages to employ so many people, make a profit and not let a bit of (the wrong type - any type - of) snow bring it skidding to a halt. He gave a most complete and accurate answer in just three words...
"People use it..." he said.
And of course that makes sense.
When, in 1986, Mrs Thatcher said "A man who, beyond the age of 26, finds himself on a bus can count himself as a failure," she helped to make sure that, if you have to use public transport in the UK, that's in some way shameful - you're just cattle; too crap to have your own car. She also engineered the system which means that it costs £8 to get to Southampton and back from my house, whereas here, you can travel between Munich and Salzburg (and back) - 180 miles, between countries! - for £5.
Bless her.
(On the down side, the snow here is just something you have to get rid of to make the trains run. It's commonplace, so no-one plays with it - no snowmen, no snowball fights. I don't think that's Thatcher's fault. Probably just miserable Europeans...)
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Whiteout...
The sun has come out now, but for the last couple of days it's been really cold. -6°C at its lowest and not much above freezing during the day. And foggy!
And this morning, although it hadn't snowed where my Dad lives, it had snowed a couple of miles to the east (closer to Russia).
Now, why couldn't it have done that at Christmas?
And this morning, although it hadn't snowed where my Dad lives, it had snowed a couple of miles to the east (closer to Russia).
Now, why couldn't it have done that at Christmas?
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