IT Did not Blow and they were not scattered

The terrorists at the BBC Weather Centre were in fine voice yesterday with dire warnings of the 'worst storm of the year' 'a vigorous depression' leading to '75mph winds' 'Super storm on stilts'-just short of a hurricane. And where-Eastern England including the south east and the north east. Technically we are in Scotland but meteorogically speaking we are as north eastern England as you can get and no self respecting storm on stilts is going to stop at the Chain Bridge and its Welcome to Scotland sign: 'er, sorry, oops this is Scotland, hush ye winds, still ye waters etc'


So we went into hurricane mode encouraged by helpful advice in large red letters linked to the BBC Weather Warning page-cars away from trees-parked leeward behind the house, shutters closed to stop fragmented glass carpeting the west facing bedrooms, garden furniture secured, visiting cat expelled early to go home safely and move into north facing tiny bedroom out of earshot of the banshee howling a south wester makes as it roars through the Ash trees. And out of reach of said Ash trees which if felled in our direction could cause the 'structural damage' the BBC was gleefully prophesising. One possible blessing: having cleared the front lawn/meadow of much of its leaves I reckoned the storm would disperse the rest to our neighbours garden becoming his problem, not mine.

I did note before retiring that there was a certain amount of back peddling going on: the sharp suited one was hedging bets and talking about the storm being at its worst in the south east but, he emphasised, remembering the hurricane that Mr Fish had ignored and never lived down, it could be very nasty almost anywhere. And if you were not blown away you would drown in the floods.

Huttonian had a peaceful night. So did the known world.The Blether centre talked lamely of a depression unexpectedly filling and changed the subject. The leaves on the grass also slumbered gently and I found them where I had left them.

Exactly where I had left them

Detective Inspector X. Home* of Fishwick Special Branch was philosophical about all this as is his wont' Reminds me of the case of the dog who slept through the night' he reminisced,sucking on his favourite pipe' 'But there was no dog' our old retired GP and part time amateur sleuth, well used to helping the police with their enquiries, gently reminded him. '

Precisely my dear Dr Whatson'

'Precisely'

* 'Home' as a name in the Borders is prenounced 'hume' If you don't know that you might as well leave the blog immediately. Blog-Ed  ¶ 10:10 AM