[Softers, Rosie] Quite. I'm in the office until 5 and have been since 08.30. I didn't even leave my desk at lunchtime. And if it's cold, the grass won't grow anymore anyway - it doesn't get out of bed for less that 10°C. When I get home, I'm going to kick back and start weekending, thatnkyouverymuch.
I'm going on HOLIDAY soon! Well, to Britain, to my parents', but I'm looking forward to it. Thank God for congé de printemps - giving us a breather before the exam insanity begins.
(pen) You're probably right but the problem is that by the time it's dry enough to cut (a week's time, say) it may well be looking a lot shaggier than just now. (Softers) I trust the phrase "the wife has me scheduled" is not entirely serious. (Phil) The forecasts almost certainly refer to the air temperature at screen level (1.25 metres) but the grass minima (as they are called) are always lower by an amount that depends on the wind speed so I reckon 4 out of 5 is more likely.
I've just got a grass-cutting raincheck... unfortunately it also means I can't get the washing dry either. Never mind, it's just nice to be home for a weekend, for a change. And this morning, I am mostly drinking Civet Coffee, or Kopi Luwak, a present from Indonesia.
The grass has disappeared under 4 inches of snow but is already reappearing where I've walked on it due to heat from the ground. There'll be a frost tonight, though.
Badgers are the Holy Cows de nos jours. What's so wonderful about them, great lolloping things? They can be vicious and would make mincemeat of the average dog not that that would bother me.
[Rosie] Not as bad as today's BBC news website (the front page story about the re-introduction of Moose to the Scottish Highlands) and their Science reporter confusing 'ungulates' with 'undulates'. Schoolboy error. I've emailed them about it already... Oooh, and Polly Toynbee has replied in person to my quick email in praise of her column in this morning's Guardian, hehehehe! :o)
(Tuj) Not to mention a typo habit, yes? It must be a bad day. :-) (pen) Pah! Small beer! I have received a personally-signed apology from none other than Ian Hislop for a very sick crossword clue in Private Eye, even if it did only consist of two words.
End of day, ready to go home, I put "stilletto (misspelt) gerundive" into Google, got a single hit and it was you. Hello. Now I feel I have come home: will you have me?
(Raak) All right. The answer was spittle and clue involved Hawking. Filth is OK, good even, but don't mock the afflicted. The apology said "Point taken" and my guess is there were more than a few of them to be signed by the splendid Hislop, from which one cam infer that he had a word or two in the crossword setter's ear. (Softers) South London!!!??? That's outrageous! I'm in Surrey (just). (Me Dick) Well, personally, I'd rather not but there must be somebody and we are by nature co-operative.