A Few Random Thoughts
Congratulations to the National Grid for figuring that it costs more to move electrons from the wilds of Scotland to English suburbia, and thus deciding that anyone generating electricity out in the boondocks should suffer a financial penalty to actually make their electricity do anything.
Presumably, what the controllers of the nation's power lines would like to see is The Solent filled with tidal power stations and London replaced with wind turbines. (Actually, maybe that's not a bad idea...)
You see where I'm going with this? And all happening at a time when the said monopoly is trying to strong-arm the Scots into accepting a massive new overhead line system running straight through the middle of a National Park.
This stupidity prompts me to wonder how many NG executives used to work for BAA.
I've taken to eating the stuff for breakfast partly because everyone says it's good for you and partly because I have an addictive character. Possibly also out of nostalgia. I even use my Mother's spurtle, and I bet not many of you can say the same.
I recall that she always soaked the oats overnight, although instant porridge had been the thing for decades. But then she was born in 1919 and was brought up in a two-bedroomed tenement with her parents and three siblings. Probably she had to grow her own.
Anyway, porridge is one of those things, like popcorn, that can divide a society. Salt or sugar? Being a freak, I naturally prefer BOTH. AND milk. Possibly that inhibits the 'good for you' part, but while my blood pressure skyrockets and my body fat reproduces exponentially, I am well defended from an excess of cholesterol. Cool.
Where was I? Oh yes - the cat.
Well, there I was at my breakfast. I had just given our tiny evil Siamese-cross her daily licking of butter, but apparently she was convinced that my cereal was worth a try too, and she jumped up onto the table. That's a no-no in our household, but I was caught with spoon in mouth so, waving energetically, I gurgled at her disapprovingly, and this was the point at which a guerrilla sneeze rushed up and caught me out.
Sneeze - porridge - cat.
Oh dear....
Later that morning I dropped my door keys, but, reacting with lightning speed, I caught them on the way down and then followed through to punch myself neatly in the testicles and fall to the floor in some distress.
Oh dear....
1 comment:
Of course, since electricity is actually about moving negatively charged electrons backwards, National Power ought to be paying the good people of the highlands for the privilege of extracting their ample supply of electrons. Alex (C**T) Salmond will be licking his lips with glee - "They're Scotland's Electrons" .
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