Thursday, 23 February 2012

Where's my egg timer?

There is a variation of Murphy's law which says that you can wait ages for a bus and then three will come along together. Much the same can apply to blogging. For several days the blogger can scratch around in a daily attempt to find something to write about which will amuse, entertain or instruct those who are kind enough to follow his blog, then three or even four subjects thrust themselves into the poor blogger's consciousness at almost the same moment. That is exactly what has happened to me. Having taken the time while walking to dog to mull over the various topics I have decided to write about egg timers.

You see, it's now official. Eastern and south-eastern England are stricken by drought. We have, apparently, enjoyed (if that is really the word) two dry winters. Other parts of England have enjoyed rain. Indeed, my brother in Cornwall (that's in the far south-west of England) complains he only has to pick up the dog's lead for the heavens to open once again. But there is no network of pipes to transport water from the non-drought-stricken parts of the country to those parts that are in need of refreshment. So we here in the overcrowded south-east have to wait for rain. Meanwhile, we are shown in the newspapers and on television pictures of dry stream beds rivers shrunken to trickles and acres of glutinous mud that should be reservoirs. There is much concern for wildlife: water voles, fishes and, further up the food chain, kingfishers and otters.

Back in 1976 we had a serious drought problem with no rain from May to August. That time the whole country was affected. We were cajoled into using a lot less water tha usual: don't flush the toilet unless really necessary; shower instead of bathing but if you must bath, just 6 inches of water; etc, etc. But the government of the day finally cracked it and provided the solution. The Prime Minister appointed a Minister for Drought. Almost immmediately there was dancing in the streets. Not, you understand, because of Mr So-and-so's elevation but because it started raining. People literally ran out of doors to enjoy the feeling of rain on their faces.

This time round the government has come up with a different solution: egg timers. We are being asked to restrict ourselves to four-minute showers and I read in the newspaper that special waterproof egg timers are to be distributed so we can make sure we don't spend too long on our ablutions.

Of course, it started raining slightly while I was in town yesterday afternoon and rained properly during the evening and night. No doubt it will keep going now until the reservoirs overflow.


Uncle Skip, said...

"...restrict ourselves to four-minute showers..."

Are those metric minutes?
I ask only because when we were asked to limit our time in the shower is was for three minutes

Stephen Hayes said...

I hope the delayed rain solves your problems without causing new ones.

Buck said...

Heh. Your story gives the lie to gub'mint bein' incapable of doing anything.

My tongue is FIRMLY in my cheek.

Brighton Pensioner said...

You are quite right, but the conversion from metric to imperial (or in your case republican with a small "r") minutes is quite complex:
MM=im x 73 ÷ 60 ± the number of Aunty Mary's house.

Brighton Pensioner said...

Sorry, folks, that last comment should, of course, have been directed to or at Skip.