Musings from the Merse
Friday, December 05, 2008
Jungle Drums
A bloggee who we will keep anonymous has sent a heart rending Cri de Coeur. In part:
Perhaps it is because we are in a parallel universe ‘cos NOBODY KNOWS WE ARE HERE. According to all satnavs and all data bases when the postcode here is fed in, my own little spot on the planet seems to be somewhere else. This can be summed up as the traditional Borders mathematical problem which goes: How many hours does it take a Curry’s van to deliver a freezer to postcode X? Snowploughs trundled past us at least twice yesterday but they were obviously on their way to somewhere else – hey, guys, there’s like, er, snow/chilly slippy white stuff on the road oootside ma hoosie – will ye’s no’ clear i’? At least the vibrations shoopk some of the grunge from the windows. The people who clear the roads never think that many people pass across the B6461 and have an international trek over to Norham to get this and that. I managed it at the start of the blizzard and I don’t know how. I spent the rest of the day comatose in front of ITV3 watching old episodes of Wycliffe. At that time of day the Northumbrian side had done its bit and the bridge and road were almost navigable. I also wonder why the 2 departments can’t get together and arrange a priority system for crossing the bridge where there are not infrequent Mexican stand-offs
Huttonian has every sympapthy. My Tom Tom, in its 'Sean' voice mode (changed from a prissy English Miss: Penelope?) also has problems with the parallel universe aka Ber wick Shire. He can't get out of his head that we no longer live in the Old Manse and has it as 'home' in his elephantine memory which I don't seem to be able to re-programme. The youngest daughter travelling from Duns to Berwick was instructed to turn right just beyond Chirnside and suddenly found herself about to cross the Bluestane ford which had drink taken and was in a bit of a spate. As soon as she had reversed and driven away towardsw the main Chirnside-Berwick Road Sean got increasingly agitated demanding 'Turn around Where Possible' (Perhaps the Gaderene Swine had faulty Nav Sats which explains their headlong rush into the Sea of Gallilee?)
The image is of the Bluestane Ford. Our little Astra would never have emerged again had Tom Tom's directions been followed)
A bloggee who we will keep anonymous has sent a heart rending Cri de Coeur. In part:
Perhaps it is because we are in a parallel universe ‘cos NOBODY KNOWS WE ARE HERE. According to all satnavs and all data bases when the postcode here is fed in, my own little spot on the planet seems to be somewhere else. This can be summed up as the traditional Borders mathematical problem which goes: How many hours does it take a Curry’s van to deliver a freezer to postcode X? Snowploughs trundled past us at least twice yesterday but they were obviously on their way to somewhere else – hey, guys, there’s like, er, snow/chilly slippy white stuff on the road oootside ma hoosie – will ye’s no’ clear i’? At least the vibrations shoopk some of the grunge from the windows. The people who clear the roads never think that many people pass across the B6461 and have an international trek over to Norham to get this and that. I managed it at the start of the blizzard and I don’t know how. I spent the rest of the day comatose in front of ITV3 watching old episodes of Wycliffe. At that time of day the Northumbrian side had done its bit and the bridge and road were almost navigable. I also wonder why the 2 departments can’t get together and arrange a priority system for crossing the bridge where there are not infrequent Mexican stand-offs
Huttonian has every sympapthy. My Tom Tom, in its 'Sean' voice mode (changed from a prissy English Miss: Penelope?) also has problems with the parallel universe aka Ber wick Shire. He can't get out of his head that we no longer live in the Old Manse and has it as 'home' in his elephantine memory which I don't seem to be able to re-programme. The youngest daughter travelling from Duns to Berwick was instructed to turn right just beyond Chirnside and suddenly found herself about to cross the Bluestane ford which had drink taken and was in a bit of a spate. As soon as she had reversed and driven away towardsw the main Chirnside-Berwick Road Sean got increasingly agitated demanding 'Turn around Where Possible' (Perhaps the Gaderene Swine had faulty Nav Sats which explains their headlong rush into the Sea of Gallilee?)
The image is of the Bluestane Ford. Our little Astra would never have emerged again had Tom Tom's directions been followed)
Labels: Bluestane Ford, TomTom
Comments:
The alternative Borders mathematical problem: What's the likelihood of Curry's having the fridge you want ...
# posted by 
: 1:48 PM
: 1:48 PM
6 to the power of 4 according to the Hutton Think Tank. Seasonally adjusted of course.
Although strictly speaking this is a philosophical rather than a mathemtical problem.
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Although strictly speaking this is a philosophical rather than a mathemtical problem.
