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Moo. Moo. Moo. Moo.

fog

Weather forecasting is not very good in the UK. We’re spoiled in the US; our weather usually comes West to East across a big stable land-mass. Americans can see stuff coming a long way off. Britain is an island in the Atlantic; its weather is pushed around and bullied by a big, cold sea. Forecasts aren’t reliable even 24 hours out.

So when last night’s BBC forecast called for clear sun and very poor visibility, I thought it was either/or. Hedging their bets. How can those two things be? They can’t.

And then I woke up to the foghorn.

Our foghorn is not the BEEE-OHHHH of Warner Brother’s cartoons. Ours goes “moo” every little while, like an especially monotonous and retarded cow. It is not a romantic sound. It is a frankly very fucking annoying sound.

It was sunny and lovely for a while when I got up, then the fog dropped from above like ninja marshmallow. Just like that. One minute, I was emptying the dishwasher. The next, Uncle B was saying, “ummm…I don’t think we’re going anywhere today.”

Jesus, it can fog around here.

We went out anyway, but we didn’t get anything done that we meant to. So that’s okay.

Moo.

sock it to me

January 14, 2009 — 8:13 pm
Comments: 16