1 Jan 2019

1st January 2019 A bit of a blow.

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Tuesday 1st January 2018: 43F. Heavy cloud passing rapidly over with clear gaps in between.  A walk to the village in very light traffic but the roadside trees were roaring to make up for it. Tyre roar is remarkably similar to wind in the trees and hedges.

The roads were covered in fallen twigs and flattened worms. An elderly couple, walking their dogs, dashed all hope that I was the last person left alive after last night's fierce "gun battles."

Strong gusts are expected to reach above 20m/s [45mph] all day with possible 50mph gusts. Base wind speed is up around 20-30mph for much of the day. It's an ill wind because north westerlies are out best direction for local tree shelter.

This same wind direction piles up the water in the sea channels surrounding Denmark and raises coastal sea levels. Many of the sea bridges joining the three main landmasses become impossible for wind-sensitive traffic. Not that it will stop them from trying.


The incredible detail available on the DMI [Dansk Meteorological Institute] online forecasts is obvious. This is the science of weather forecasting. Not some bimbo talking nineteen to the dozen over a simplified map for dummed down, BBC viewers.

Varsler means warning in Danish and the colour shows the danger level. Vandstand means water levels. Orange is worse than yellow. The west coast of Jylland [Jutland] always cops the worst of any heavy weather coming over the North Sea. Much of our weather is secondhand from Gravely Blighted. This time it's coming more from the Iceland direction.

It is ironic that Australia is "enjoying" temperatures in degrees C which match ours in degrees F. I prefer ours to be in F after last summers endless heatwave and drought. Though the Danes use the Centigrade scale too I am more used to Fahrenheit from a British upbringing. The Meteorological Office kindly waited until I left before sneaking in the utterly meaningless Centigrade scale. Where a change of only couple of degrees can mean the difference between life and death.

Last night's, New Year fireworks followed the usual pattern. With long periods without a sound and short period of heavy explosions. After the midnight cacophony there was another racket at 12.40. Colourful fountains of light showed all around the horizon when I looked out after midnight. Nobody gives a damn about the law regarding keeping safe distances from thatched properties. Fortunately the thatch is usually sopping wet at this time of year.

It is usual to wish one's reader's a Happy New Year. Well, I did that last year and just look what happened! I have become a bit of a cynic of late. It must be something to do with my age. All those transparent lies from the politicooze are bound to get noticed eventually.

Will Breaksit end my enforced exile? Will I be all the poorer whatever happens? Provided you can get Netflix and YouTube with decent signal quality it hardly matters where you live any more. Take my word for it. It's about as reliable as any other's out there. I keep trying to think of a resolution to make. But lack the imagination to come up with anything I wouldn't break by Thursday.


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