I was having lunch with Lady G the other day, sitting under shelter in a pub garden and watching the storm clouds gather. An older gentleman at the next table said “Oh I think that’ll miss us and pass by” – which of course meant that no less than three minutes later the heavens opened and we watched a young family sprinting to cover back inside, clutching their lunches and trying not to drown their drinks.
As we were in a sturdy wooden shelter, the three of us watched this without comment until a loud thunder and lightning crack detonated directly overhead. As we had just been talking about the book Small Gods by Terry Pratchett, I couldn’t resist looking up at the skies and saying “missed us!” Several more lightning strikes and rolls of thunder followed as the storm surged past.
We may have teased the gentleman about how the storm had indeed passed by…
Well we won’t be going to Disney this year, but the heat today in the South of England is roughly comparable to the weather we’d have had out there anyway, so maybe this is nature’s way of apologising for coronavirus.
We were due to get the results back from Lady M’s MRI scan this morning, but the specialist got called in to perform emergency surgery first thing, so we’ll talk at some point this afternoon. Work sent me home so I can look after her, so it at least gives me a chance to catch up on work emails rather than be front of house. On the positive side, the leaks from upstairs have been fixed, so that’s a good thing.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m back to the fridge for cold water. Stay hydrated everyone!
I thought we’d had all the good weather we were going to have now that people have been out and about more. I am pleasantly surprised therefore to have clear blue skies and sunshine all around as I go to pick up my prescription renewals.
Last night’s DDC game was fun for me, if no one else, in that it allowed me no small amount of GM sadism. The group is still investigating the buried remains of an old goblin temple, and had discovered several very old sets of remains from what looked like a pitched battle.
Beyond an open archway was a large room with benches along the walls and an enormous carpet that smelled awful. Rather than just take this in as a bit of scene dressing, there then followed real fear as they tried to investigate for traps, or some nefarious purpose to the carpet. At one point they thought the carpet might leap into life and try to eat them.
It was only when someone tried to flip the carpet, and the corner tore off wetly in their hand, that they accepted that their GM had been telling the truth the whole time – that it was just a carpet and there were no traps.
Okay, I may have used the “are you sure?” and “which corner are you reaching for?” approach, but I think I have done my job well in instilling caution in my players. I’m sure the next carpet will be just as innocent.
With the weather a bit cooler today, its made me realise what about the steady heat blanket of this week has had me struggling a bit.
Essentially the lack of breezes had brought a heaviness that was reminding me of the dissociative parts of my depression. Everything was feeling dull and distant and my head was responding to the familiarity of those sensations.
Being a reasonably smart cookie, I recognised this on a subconscious level at least, because I’ve been making efforts to drag myself outside the flat in search of light and sound, and at least hints of moving air. Being around people, talking online, keeping busy, these have all kept my brain shaken from the old tracks. So thats a good thing, possibly even means I’m learning to look after myself.
That said i didn’t really put it all together until counselling this evening, but then that’s what its there for.
So we’re quite lucky in that the worst of the high winds seem to have passed us by – but it is still strong enough out there to be slapping at my beard as it gusts. Unlike some friends we’ve not had electrical disruption locally, and having no garden we’ve not had to chase after any lawn furniture or escaping trampolines.
We’ve got off lightly really. Even so, my first thought when none of our computer systems fired up this morning I did wonder if it could somehow be blamed on the weather.
Even so life goes on. In total defiance of the weather, a local school duly sent a class of young children round to see us, wrapped head to toe in thick jackets and warm hats and hoods. Cue one session if the history of libraries, how to treat your books, how to use the library, and a game where we arranged the children in alphabetical order – as you do.
Considering we had no working systems to demonstrate it all went rather well. Now to batten down the hatches before the next storm arrives. It must be winter or something.
I’m off to a masquerade thing this weekend, and so need to sort out a suitable mask for Lady S. Fortunately there’s a place near me that stocks all sorts of things so I’ve dragged myself out of bed in my day off to pop down to Kingston.
It’s a bit soggy. It’s raining so much the pigeons are hiding under the old barbecue on my balcony. From the sound of the cooing they’re busy making new pigeons. I’m half expecting to see them wearing galoshes the next time they’re perched on the railings.
Being Pride month, and an obstinate bugger, I’ve thrown on my Queer Umbrella t-shirt. It’s buried under my hoodie and thick coat, but it’s there. The last time I wore it was while at Con when popping out for supplies while Lady M was laid up with a migraine and heatstroke.
On that occasion I had a man yell “Queer!” in my face, which I suppose proved he could actually read. I looked at him. Every cosplayer on the street looked at him. He looked up in the silence and realised I was a head and a half taller than him and twice as wide. He dipped his head and went away.
I’m lucky. I’m a white male who easily fits into the bear stereotype in appearance. I’ve woken this morning to read two stories of homophobic assaults just in the first ten minutes of being awake, and as many incidences of people shouting about straight pride. I’m not dignifying that with capitals.
Pride is protest and visibility in the face of aggression. It’s political, it always has been, it started as a riot in the face of police brutality.
I’m queer. I’m bisexual, polyamorous, sex-positive, kinked and not going anywhere. Sorry, not sorry.
So, we survived the downpour of Storm Desmond by basically being on high ground on the Cumbrian borders. It’s only really been today that I’ve looked at news sites and seen the havoc wreaked on places that I’d been planning to take the Ladies during the day.Our duvet day was therefore confirmed as the best possible solution to horrendous weather – nice to have that decision upheld even in hindsight. Still, it wasn’t all sitting and reading quietly. In the middle of the afternoon, we heard noises outside and had to investigate, if only by peering out the window.
It turned out that there had been a car rally planned in the truck park next to the hotel, but that was almost a complete washout too – with tricked out small cars trying to speed up and down an access road. We had heard one of them – a little Ford Fiesta with an out-sized exhaust that was definitely trying too hard. The driving instructor in his sticker-emblazoned car was more alarming for his inability to steer or to pick up any speed despite being in a Mondeo, and to be honest I can’t remember much of the other vehicles. As you can tell, it wasn’t quite a classic car rally.
As for the party, well we might have been a bit more dressed up than some of the other guests, but I like to think we made up for it by being generally more glamourous than many people.
The general theme had been put forward as being generally around the 80s, and so there were a large number of UK editions of Thundercats comics spread on the tables, classic penny sweets on vinyl records, our Hostess (the Lady Pixie) dressed as She-Ra, and the Inimitable Hugh as Ripley from Aliens.
I have to say that his jumpsuit was fantastic, with all the right patches and loving attention to detail throughout the whole costume. We really must get him to a convention at some point. It’s just a shame that with his goatee and the massive curly wig he looked rather like a Fast Show incarnation from a Scouser remake of the film, and we kept expecting him to start telling everyone to “Calm down, Calm down!”
We had people dressed up as Pac-man and a couple of Ghosts (by the application of painted cardboard), a number of Beetlejuices, a Robert Smith (he, of The Cure), a Suggs, and a Ghostbuster complete with inflatable Proton Pack. My particular favourite was Lady Pixie’s younger sister, who wore a red hoodie, and a pair of handlebars and a basket with a miniature ET sitting in it hanging from a strap in front of her.
There was a degree of good-natured ribbing of us Southerners*, which was a good excuse for every anti-Yorkshire joke to then be pulled out by the Lancastrians. I apparently got a pass for having a Welsh background, even if it was still perilously close to France.
Knowing the weather was getting worse and we had a long drive in the morning, we didn’t stay until the bitter end – plus our assorted anxieties around not knowing many people there nagged at our heels a bit – and so we disappeared again into the night with the sounds of Men Without Hats’ Safety Dance ringing in our ears. It was that kind of night…
And the journey home was… well, motorways and more service stations and sudden cries of “I need the loo!” before we got home safe and sound, ready to do battle with the new week. Lady M continues to do battle with companies and bring them to their knees. Lady P has started a new job at Game, and I am a beacon of calm and serenity in the face of the public and new staff movements.**
At least the weather has calmed down back in the South, and is now merely freezing cold. Extra layers are becoming more than an option as I walk to work each day… Must be why I’ve applied for a couple of new jobs this week.
* well, of Lady P and I, Lady M is rather more Northern than they were.
**this statement may in fact be partially or wholly untrue and should be taken as at least an intention, no matter what wailing or gnashing of teeth may be detected.
There was definitely a nip in the air today – my face went from normal to “ohmygodIcan’tfeelmynose” within a couple of seconds as I left the flat – but at least it didn’t then start to drip when I got in to the warm library fifteen minutes later. It’s been a long day, with the last customer kicked out about seven in the evening, and then some more articles written when I got home.
Lady M has been out at a networking event this evening, so I’ve just been rattling around the flat – but I have at least also managed to write up Monday’s game. This was one of those flat out battle sessions that lasted pretty much the whole evening and gave everyone a chance to do something heroic.
Bleah – it’s late, I’m tired – I’ll write something witty later – be cool and excellent unto each other in the meantime.
This really has been a strange week, and a busy one at the library. I’ve been running an Online Basics Course for OAPs and people bullied into it by the DWP, ran this month’s Chatterbooks session, and took this week’s Rhymetime with 30-40 preschool toddlers and parents.
All this in the week our assistant manager retired, staff shortages left us running the place on two people, stock checks were needed, roughly 200 new books needed receipting and processing, and another 300 books or so needed pulling from the shelves and either recirculated or withdrawn. So no pressure or anything.
And then there were the customers, who were generally good natured and a joy, except for the one’s who weren’t.
My, there were a lot of those. From the not so passive-aggressive mass photocopying people who nearly came to blows while screeching about how they paid their council tax for some peace and quiet, to the reading group who didn’t see why they should pay for lost books, we had it all.
It’s been a week of normally reasonable people all choosing to have complex, fiddly, or downright bizarre requests, all delivered in bad tempers, grumpiness, or total lack of irony.
We blame the sudden change from winter storms to sunshine with a side order of higher temperatures that seem to have got sinuses inflamed and people suddenly overdressed and overheated.
See, we’re British, we can find something to complain about with any change in the weather.