mailto: blog -at- heyrick -dot- eu
Going to work on Tuesday was weird. It was raining gently, so I had the wiper on timed, but every time the wiper did it's think, it threw a lot of dirty gunk off to the sides.
When I got home that afternoon, the sky was... well...
A weird sky, at about quarter past six in the evening.
It was possible to look directly at the sun. A taste of what midsummer might be like if Putin decides to see what happens if he prods The Big Red Button?
Only, don't touch the dust.
Speaking of which...
Hey, CLEAN ME!
So I cleaned my little car and... the next day...
At work the next day, at about 3pm.
The sky was sort of sepia toned on Tuesday. Come Wednesday it was more, well, urine coloured. The odd colouring of the room is nothing in the building, it's from the daylight.
It rained again in the evening, as I was driving home. Swish, swish, more gunk on the windscreen.
This time I simply parked out front, left the engine running, and hosed down the worst if it. I'll rewash it on, I dunno, the weekend?
It was sunny this evening, so I tidied up some cut branches and enjoyed seeing a proper sunset.
A sunset at last.
But why? Well, I see from the online newspapers that this has reached the UK after crossing Spain and France. It wasn't quite as bad as happened in 2017, but it was a lot more obvious because this time it rained so it made everything really mucky.
What it was, well, basically a fair amount of the Sahara ended up in the sky. Like, at around 2km in height. All those dust particles gave us the freaky orange/sepia/yellow/pee skies and those brought down in the rain gave us the dirty cars.
In Spain, it is known as a calima. When an intense burst of dusty wind forms during a regular sandstorm, it can cross over into Europe. Luckily for us in northern France (and the UK), it was just dirty rain and strange skies. Down on the southern coast in Spain, however, it would have been like climbing into a vacuum cleaner bag. Put those face masks right back on again! Down on the Costas, it wasn't so much a hint of what a nuclear winter might look like as a full on apocalypse scene, with the sky looking like it was either on fire or in the process of exploding. And good like looking at it without your eyes hurting like hell and your lungs reacting like the first time you encountered tobacco smoke.
I stopped by the shop yesterday. Stocks had arrived. I helped to deplete them.
Thirty six lovely Mars bars!
Please note that while I check this page every so often, I am not able to control what users write; therefore I disclaim all liability for unpleasant and/or infringing and/or defamatory material. Undesired content will be removed as soon as it is noticed. By leaving a comment, you agree not to post material that is illegal or in bad taste, and you should be aware that the time and your IP address are both recorded, should it be necessary to find out who you are. Oh, and don't bother trying to inline HTML. I'm not that stupid! ☺ ADDING COMMENTS DOES NOT WORK IF READING TRANSLATED VERSIONS.
You can now follow comment additions with the comment RSS feed. This is distinct from the b.log RSS feed, so you can subscribe to one or both as you wish.
|David Pilling, 18th March 2022, 03:31|
Sahara dust sometimes gets here (North of England) but not this time. It got a mention on the weather forecast.
Mars "the return of the taste of legend" - did it go away. Have punters been saying "don't taste as good as they used to".
XL - like man size, are they as big as the ones we used to have, or has some strange inflation effect meant that the XL bar is now bite size.
|Steve Drain, 18th March 2022, 18:53|
"A Mars a day helps you work, rest and play!"
When I were a lad a Mars bar was 'enormous'. ;-)
I still have couple of Pelican books from the war with adverts for Mars suggesting you should cut them into slices to last longer.
|Gavin Wraith, 19th March 2022, 16:06|
Adverts in other languages, or from other times, can seem naked, stripped of the smoothness with which their creators have learned to bamboozle us. When I encounter an advert that I find particularly annoying or incomprehensible, I remind myself that its real meaning is just "Buy me! Buy me!" and that it is pointless to search for any other. Perhaps aware of this themselves, advertisers no doubt feel that any analysis of an advert, say for factual truth, is to miss the point.
(Felicity? Marte? Find out!)
- The screeching U-turn, Money for the rich, Citroen Ami waiting time, Well done Amazon. (2022/10/04)
- Jazzing up RISC OS, French cake take two, More messing with Dall-E. (2022/10/02)
- Mon Espace Sante, Spirits, How to break an autistic person, Wobbly seat, Quiet quitting, Holly and Philip, Saturday wreckage. (2022/10/01)
- Three years already... (2022/09/29)
- Buggered Britain. (2022/09/26)
List all b.log entries
Return to the site index
PS: Don't try to be clever.
It's a simple substring match.
Last read at 00:41 on 2022/10/08.
© 2022 Rick Murray
This web page is licenced for your personal, private, non-commercial use only. No automated processing by advertising systems is permitted.
RIPA notice: No consent is given for interception of page transmission.