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

Saturday, January 23, 2010

I've got a mackerel in my pocket. It's portable. And waterproof.

The snow has abated for a few days, though more is promised next week (oh joy) so we have now turned to that adornment to the thaw: The Enquiry Into What Went Wrong In The Snow. This is a traditional annual gavotte played to very strict steps. The tempo may vary with the character of the dancers but the steps are religiously adhered to.
  1. There's a row in the local papers about the state of the borough's roads.
  2. The opposition of the day say it's a disgrace.
  3. The governing party of the day says that it was an unprecedented set of circumstances.
  4. A press release is sent out saying that the gritters are working all the live-long day and that a huge amount of salted grit is being deposited daily.
  5. An enquiry is set up.
  6. The opposition ask why the council was unprepared.
  7. The governing party says that all due preparations had been made, above and beyond those specified by central government.
  8. A working group is set up to learn lessons and make recommendations.
  9. The working group never meets.

It's all very traditional and lovely in its way. We ought to advertise it better, I'm sure it would draw in the tourists.

This year the press release said that they were putting out 1,000 tonnes of grit a day. Explaining the preparations that had been made, the Cabinet Member responsible told the council that there were fifteen days' worth of supplies in the Bismuth lane depot.

"The problem is that after the first week we'd used up 8,500 tonnes of grit and we were having to wait for fresh supplies from Cheshire."

Those of you who having been following the budget masterclass will be comfortable with the idea that 15 x 1,000 = 8,500.

10 comments:

St Jude said...

Hmm, that about sums up much of their budgeting ability!!! More snow? I haven't been watching weather forcasts of late I'm not really into watching repeats.

Affer said...

I can't stand this negativity. A shortage of grit isn't a real problem: we have about 60 million doses of Pandemrix,Celvapan and Tamiflu that we could spread on the roads instead. (It doesn't seem as though they have any other use....).

nursemyra said...

Budget Masterclass..... hahaha

Gadjo Dilo said...

Hmm, even I can do that maths exercise. Maybe at the end of each day they should scrape it back off the roads and put it back in the depot.

Macy said...

North of Carlisle of course, we just demand that WESTMINSTER (AKA The English) do something.. :)

Madame DeFarge said...

Sitting here studying Maths, I am grateful for this numeric insight. Saves me a lot of time. If I fail, I'll come to work for your lot as a finance manager.

Pat said...

I like the idea of a gavotte - no nasty surprises and a rhythm to procedures. I trust all are suitably dressed.

Robert Swipe said...

They must use the same bunch of jokers to compile the hit parade, Kevster...

(Must tell Scott Walker the news...might stopping slapping the sides of dead pigs in a desperate attempt to be "with it" and get a hit...)

L.U.V. on ya,

Bob

Tenon_Saw said...

They should have tried pepper if the salt ran out.

Kevin Musgrove said...

St Jude: I'm hoping the forecast is as good as the barbecue summer we just had.

Affer: Had we but thought we could have lined the pavements with copies of the Daily Mail so that the snow could have bee bodily lifted out of the way en bloc. The government will be selling on the Tamiflu et al. at a profit to third world countries.

nursemyra: you can mock: look where it's getting Madame DeFarge!

Gadjo: where it probably wasn't in the first place...

Macy: this is true. It will be a tactic we will be employing ruthlessly when we become a city-state.

Madame DeF: there, there, don't take on so!

Pat: indeed, some even wear their own trousers.

Bob: I think we leraned it off them. Or else the people who calculate the attendances at football matches.

Tenon_Saw: given the state of one or two of the local eating holes some damned foor would end up eating the main road.