By: Blonde Two
Blonde One and I went to Dartmoor yesterday. This is the text message that I sent her between showering and eating breakfast:
‘Bottle not bladder, yellow rain, winter trousers, eyes, flask.‘
Did you understand it? If you did then you almost certainly speak Blonde. ‘Winter trousers’ and ‘flask’ need no translation, ‘bottle not bladder’ referred to my chosen water container and ‘eyes’ meant contact lenses not glasses.
‘Yellow rain’ however, defeated even Blonde telepathy and I had to explain myself when I arrived at the B1 residence. ‘Yellow Rain’ was not a reference to dire childhood warnings about eating yellow snow, but rather an indicator of the Met Office’s ‘Yellow Warning’ of rain on Dartmoor.
It might just be my poor timing, but every recent viewing of the Dartmoor forecast has displayed the dreaded yellow triangle. The chaps and chapesses at the Met Office weren’t wrong, Dartmoor is very wet at the moment, I would say positively over-flowing with ‘Yellow Rain’!
If one walks only occasionally with another it is as well to check up on “flask”, and also provender beforehand. Failure to do so will see you sharing your lovingly prepared Blue Stilton and tomato sauce sandwich on scrumptious home made granary bread, and that piece of yummy flapjack made to Granny’s recipe. I have black coffee (no sugar) in my flask which sometimes, mercifully, can act as a deterrent to others. OK, so I’m a meany.
Remind me to share a sandwich with you sometime Conrad, that sounds delicious! We have a bit of a problem with flask sharing. I can drink B1’s coffee, but she can’t drink my tea!
Reminds me of times past and the pondering on the wisdom of continuing with the then current girlfriend.
“would you like a dessert?”
“No thanks, but I’ll have some of yours”.
Mind you, on these dark grey days a little bright yellow rain might just suit a Jellybaby. The poor old packhorse bridge looks a bit grey around the gills, too.