Belfast Telegraph

No matter how nice the weather there's always a cloud on the horizon

By Nuala McKeever

As I write this, the weather forecast on the computer says it's going to turn cold and there may even be snow. The forecast on my phone says there may be a brief shower, but then it'll be back to full suns and glorious temperatures. I'm gonna put my trust in the phone version.

I like the nice weather. You like the nice weather. We all like the nice weather. No debate there. And yet. It has some downsides.

A small downside is the effect on winter feet of suddenly changing from socks and shoes into open sandals and bare feet. Chafing, blisters, small cuts where the thong bit between the toes cuts into delicate skin.

But it's too warm for socks and shoes, so one must put the thong-y bit back on and thole the pain until the skin heals and toughens up and the thong-y bit is not only bearable, but positively comfortable. Yes, it really is. Honest.

That's just one downside. There are many more in the realm of bodycare alone. Exposing skin. Moisturising. De-furring. Possibly colouring, just to bring the tone up to white from the normal "What the heck colour are your legs? Purple?"

It's so lovely to throw open the windows and let in the fresh warm air, too. Oh, don'tcha just love the warm weather? Hold on, what's that noise? Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Holy Moses! Look at the size of that bee. It's enormous. Quick. Get it out the window.

Why won't it go out the window? Och, for God's sake bee. You got in through the window, why can't you find the opening and get out again?

Now, I'm knackered after all that jerky activity at the window. Not to mention a bit scundered having just noticed passers-by noticing me flapping and jerking and scowling like a woman possessed at an open window, shouting, "Get out! Get out!", seemingly, at the empty air.

But, no, the weather's great. Sure, the flowers and the sun and the oh, would you look at the state of that garden. Y'can't leave that grass much longer before y'cut it.

And you haven't even cleared up the dead stuff from last winter. So you'd better get out there and, hold on a minute, when did the windows get so filthy? Blooming heck, y'can hardly see through them when the sun shines on them like that. They're boggin'.

So that's the grass, the dead stuff and the windows to do. Right, that'll not take long, I'll just go out and get the lawnmower.

Oh, how did that happen? How can the lawnmower suddenly not work anymore when it was working last summer and it's just been sitting in the shed all winter? Don't tell me I have to get a new flippin' lawnmower? Does nobody make anything to last anymore?

Oh, what's that mark on my summery trousers? Oh, no. I've got so hot and bothered lugging all the garden machinery out of the shed, I've only gone and perspired some of my natural tan colouring onto my cropped trousers.

Shouldn't have been doing the garden in your good clothes then, should you? Well, I didn't intend to garden, it was only cos the sun was shining that I noticed the grass, through the filthy windows.

Right, change your trousers. It's a relief, actually, cos I seem to have put on half-a-stone since I last wore those summery troos.

Just have to lose it again. Can't afford new clothes, not if I have to fork out for a new lawnmower.

Snow, y'say?

Bring it on. Please.

A new way to get ahead in politics?

Russian man Valery Spiridonov is volunteering to have a head transplant. His head, on someone else's body.

It's been described as "nuts", but what if it worked? Imagine the combos we could have here for the election.

Naomi Long's head on Gavin Robinson's body for East Belfast. Up here for thinking, down there for ... well ... I'm not sure what.

Gildernew and Elliot - forced to co-operate. Kelly and Dodds - protesting at his own desire to march.

Sadly, it describes our body politic already - a Frankensteinesque creation, where one part regularly rejects the other, rather than learning to dance together.

Youth could learn from going Dutch

You gotta love the Dutch. They've come up with an idea that might just work here.

A residential home for older people offers young students rent-free accommodation as long as they agree to be good neighbours and not be a nuisance to the seniors.

They also have to take part in some activities like watching sports, celebrating birthdays and offering companionship when the elderly fall ill.

The programme is aimed at warding off the negative effects of aging.

I reckon it would do a lot for the young people, too. Simple.

Belfast Telegraph

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