By: Blonde Two
On Tuesday I had cause to visit Dartington Hall. If you are ever in the Totnes area (not quite Dartmoor), you should give Dartington a try; it has a bit of everything a Blonde could want, including walks, gardens and shops.
I didn’t go walking, gardening or shopping like a normal Blonde; I was there with my business head (if not clothes) on and went to a meeting.
I think the meeting went well (although I may have talked too much and too Blonde); and afterwards I had a 150 metre walk back up the lane to my car (yes, that distance is accurate, I paced it). Unfortunately, after 50 metres, I was beset by that most summery of English weather phenomenons, a rain shower.
We Blondes are not used to showers. On Dartmoor, the weather mists, drizzles and pours on us, we rarely seem to get the relief of a burst of sun after a short shower. I sheltered under a tree and did some looking and thinking.
I saw a squirrel, some strangely dressed people and some electric bikes. I thought these things:
1. Timing is everything in ‘shower-control’.
2. If you seek shelter too soon, you may get wetter than if you made a dash for it (whatever or wherever ‘it’ is).
3. If you rely on your shelter for too long, it will eventually let you down. Trees have a saturation point, at which they let water through in bigger drops than they received it.
4. If you get impatient and leave your shelter too soon, you will get wet anyway, thus rendering your sheltering action a waste of time.
5. Rain really isn’t that bad.
Amusing precise observation relating to my own many such experiences. I am too impatient and usually depart the shelter too soon, but in British summer conditions one tends to dry off fairly quickly when the rain has stopped.
It is a scientifically proven fact that ‘making a dash for it’ is no less wetting than if you walk at your normal pace. Something about meeting the same number of raindrops by either method. (Rain drops dropping at a consistent speed, journey being the same length etc.) So you might just as well enjoy the refreshing feel and the delightful sparkle of the raindrops rather than risk tripping up.
(Some comfort to she who cannot hurry along on two walking sticks anyway!)
How fascinating! No more dashing for this Blonde then!
Now, what you all need is my newly invented, completely lacking in sartorial magnificence, bird-watching rain cape. It covers the head, the rucksack, the binoculars, most of the body (not the feet – mine tend to stick out too far) and if necessary, the dog (he hates hail.) It weighs almost nothing and can be used as a groundsheet or a shelter. The only thing is, no-one but me would be seen dead in such a thing. Bright blue, too. But then, the birds are less active in rainstorms.
So if anyone spots the Greater Blue Rainbird, we will know who it really is!
Let’s put “talking too Blonde” to one side and consider “talking Blonde”. What would be my expectation? Plangency would surely be one essential – a ringing tone, over just less than two octaves with the option to go melodious as well as dictatorially harsh. Audible over 250 metres at approx 60 dB. Important individual words (Stop, go, faster, slower, think, etc) each given its own key signature. At least four separate vocabularies to cover differing levels of student intellect: inert, stupid, spaniel-like, Proust lover. US east coast standard orthodontics. Supported in most instances by eloquent hand gestures, frequently – surprisingly! – enhanced by coloured nails (mostly Dusty Rose, occasionally Burberry). Under severe frustration switches from English to German (thus Blonde becomes two syllable). Coughs discreetly.
Mid Tewkesbury orthodontics actually.
(Gnomic?)