Well, it turns out that the answer to the question “Who
names these storms?” is “We do”. Apparently the Met Office names our storms,
but based on recommendations from the public.
And as well as Barbara, we can look forward to storms this winter called
Doris, Fleur and Penelope. I suppose we
should be grateful that there isn’t one called Windy McWindbottom, or something
similar.
Anyway, Barbara came a knockin’ last night but didn’t delay
Alex’s arrival, or a whole bunch of friends and colleagues who joined us for a
few drinks. The teenagers were, of course, loud and messy, generously leaving
their mark on the dining room carpet, the little cherubs. Apparently three of
the girls managed to go to the loo together. Nothing unusual you might think.
But in the toilet under the stairs? You can literally sit on the lav and brush
your teeth in there. I’m not sure whether to be appalled or impressed.
It’s given me an idea for a new party game for Christmas
Day. Might have to do it before lunch, though, especially with all those
sprouts. “Right Grandma,jump up onto the cistern. We’re getting the
dogs in now”.
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