Dearest Blogsie,
Would I lie to you????? The Lane is under a foot (30 centimetres to you Blog) of water again, the orchard is submerged again, the vegeatable plot is under two feet (sixty centimetres to you Blog) of water again and the snow is tumbling down again. This is the eighth time in ten months that the garden / Lane / driveway / estate has disappeared under flood water …. I think I told you that there was a consultation meeting in the local scout hut on Tuesday last, organised by the local council and the Environment Agency to discuss flooding issues. And guess what? I only found out about it 5 hours beforehand because I happened to be out in the Lane litter picking when a friend from further down the Lane went passed and stopped for a chat to ask if I was going to the meeting that night? Meeting, what meeting? The meeting about the flooding. The meeting following the questionnaire we were sent from the council. What questionnaire? The meeting detailed in last week’s circular from the council asking us to attend. What circular? I told you that I then asked all my neighbours in their mansions didn’t I Blog. NONE. Zero. Zilch. Not one had been told.
My first question at the start of the meeting was to enquire why no one had been informed of the meeting????? Oh do you flood up there? We didn’t think that you flooded up the Lane. FLOODED???? We’ve been under water eight bloody times in the last ten months you pillock. Have you any photos to send us? Have I any bloody photos of the floods. Have I. I have thousands of the bloody things. My wife has now to sleep in the greenhouse because her side of the bedroom has disappeared under thousands of photographic images of muddy waters. Thousands with a capital ‘T’. I’ll need a bloody removal van to send them all. And worse of all, the greenhouse bloody floods so the missus is none too happy about that.
So there is no sleep for me tonight, Bloggie Boy. I’ll be on flood watch. And in the morning I’ll have to wade through freezing cold turgid water before I can start my trudge. No joke Blog.
The flood has partly been caused by the continual rain. I went out for a trudge in it this morning. It was cold, freezing rain. I had forgotten my cap, so my hair was soon soaking and I could feel I was starting with Jubbly Jabbers after just a couple of miles. The first signs. I was beginning to work out my escape route back to the changing rooms at the track. Once you start with the JJs there is no way back. Disorientation. Hallucination. The Midlanders don’t seem to recognise the name, never mind the symptoms! You remember Jubblies don’t you Blog? Jubbly with a capital ‘J’? Are you old enough Blog? It was the orange drink in the tetrahedral pack which the local grocer used to freeze and then charge an extra 3d on top of the normal price. No kidding. Freezing turned a large orange drink into a mega ice lolly which lasted for yonks … And the point is that after half an hour sucking the thing, the front lobes of the brain ceased to function correctly and in extreme cases, hospitalisation was necessary. Blog I kid you not. Serious stuff. In the end, the government issued an advisory note which suggested that freezing the orange drink was not best practice because of the inherent dangers to children. And Jubblies were no more. Anyways, my brain was going into the frozen JJ state with the very cold rain and the very low temperatures and the lack of a hat. I trudged along holding my head with both hands trying to get my head warm, making a bee line for the changing rooms before it was too lat
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