We're taking a bit of a breather while the world rearranges its underpants. Meanwhile, the other blog is here.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

The Diary and Doings of a Moist Visitor

Working as we all do backstage in a darkened cellar we generally have no idea of the doings of the weather of the day except when we come in, when we nip out for lunch and when we go home. Our body clocks are all to cock and seasonality has withered on the vine. As, indeed, have we by and large. The good news is that we're less badly affected by the vile weather of the past few weeks than most folk.

Of course we're not entirely ignorant: if we be bothered to care enough we can divine the weather from the signs about us:

Staff room full of open umbrellas
Either it's been raining or it's an art installation.
Not to be confused with: open umbrella in staff toilet, which suggests an unpleasant medical condition.

"Good weather for ducks!"
It's raining.

"Turned out nice again!"
It's raining.

"God, this weather!"
It's raining.

"Isn't it warm today?"
It's raining.

"They said it would be fine today."
It's raining.

"What's it been like round your way?"
It's raining.

"Will you just look at it!"
If said by someone staring out of the staff room window: it's raining.
In any other context: you really don't want to know.

No comments: