And The God of BBC Weather said unto the Lords of Small Councils - Go forth my sons, and grit thy roads for the white stuff cometh, and without the holy grit thy cars will slippy-slidey on the highways and by-ways.
The Lords of the Small Councils had ignored their God in times past and had suffered greatly with the slippy-slidey cars. They had learned a great lesson, which had come in the form of many letters of the email kind from the common people of the land. The common people rose up as a great force and spoke as one.
NO MORE OF THE SLIPPY-SLIDEY ROADS
So on a chosen day the Gods of Small Councils heeded their Lord God of the Holy BBC, and sent the wheeled vehicles into the towns, and grit poured forth.
Keen was their gritting - spraying road, pavement, mother and child, and the odd slow cat. They gritted through the long dark hours with vim and vigour, fire and brimstone and a certain amount of salt and sand.
The Lords of the Small Councils were pleased with their work and patted themselves on their backs. The common people would go to their work, the common children would go to their schools and the common shout of 'you're a bunch of wankers' would not be heard outside the hallowed halls of the Small Council offices.
So, today the roads are full of righteous grit with no sign of one snowflake, or one bit of ice - tis surely a miracle!
12 comments:
I guess I didn't pray hard enough.
I've been trapped in the house all day on this canyon rim with my spouse and a very anxious dog.
I have no hair left. I have a twitch. My nails are gone. Visions of "The Shining" are dancing in my head.
And the common writers bow to thee in reverence fo expressing thyself so eloquently.
oh - how disappointing. even in london we had a lovely blanket of snow yesterday morning. everything looked fresh and beautiful. admittedly it didn't last more than a couple of hours-- but our garden was a winter wonderland for a whole morning :)
"I've been trapped in the house all day on this canyon rim with my spouse and a very anxious dog."
Was he worried you were going to make him pull a sled? It's about time all those pet pooches did something to earn their Pedigree Chum.
No, she mourned, still no snow! The Lords of Small Councils are now in turmoil because the monsoon has come and washed away all the True Grit and the common people are complaining about the blocked drains!
Do not take the piss GB, when poor Roberta is in danger of being Von Trapped with mad Jack. Nun of us are safe in the snowdrops.
Oh dear Mr Banana, I seem to have been somewhat affected by yer recent post.
Doh - a deer - a female deer - Ray - a drop of golden sun.........
Me - a name I call my self -fa: a long, long way to run. So -a needle pulling thread. La a note to follow so -T - a drink with jam and bread
Oh my Lord...I've regressed. Singing to myself and typing is a-typical of weird.
Someone please call the buggy and commit me now.
The Holy Grit is indeed potent medicine. I wonder if it worketh on other matters of climate. Could it perchance be used to reverse the heinous global warming, or will only the hex of death on corporate bigwigs and certain world leaders achieve that?
This chicken lives in great hope and prays the hedgewitch has answers.
Roberta, the buggy, the lesser toad nightwatch beetle has been called. Consider yourself duly committed to bugwatching. It might be easier than spouse and dog watching.
I hope those Knights-who-say-nee are not out looking for the Holy Grit in this weather - they'll catch their death!
Did the knights say 'Nee' or 'Ni'?
These things bother me sometimes.
I was having that fight with myself too Minx, before opting for nee. But I think ni might be more correct. It probably depends on the accent one uses too...
Those Frenchies....
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