Thursday, 21 June 2012
The Weather and the film Blow-up
Today has been a wet grey day in the
, I can give
you an idea of just how grey by saying that yesterday was a nice day with blue
skies and a few white clouds which produced about twenty five kilowatts of
electricity off the solar panels on the roof. Today has produced something less than four kilowatts,
so only about 15 to 18% of yesterdays, in other words we have only had about
15% of the sun we had yesterday the rest of the day has been grey mist and rain.
I can remember when I was complaining it was too hot only about a week or so
ago, and now it is too wet. Sadly tomorrow according to the BBC weatherman is
seriously not good for some and is going to be wetter. The only good news is
that the hosepipe ban does not really worry most people now because their
hosepipes have floated off down stream. UK
To change the subject a bit and also to repeat myself slightly within certain corners of cyberspace. I have been experimenting with the camera after capturing images of aliens and faces of zombies (OK a zombie). I have discovered that by pointing the camera into the air in the dark of night with the flash on while it drizzles is extremely interesting. If you watch the sky as you take the picture all the little drops of rain light up like tiny fairy lights and it looks rather cool. Sadly this only lasts for the split second of the flash. I have also as some of you will know been recreating the film Blow Up the classic late 1960’s film which I’m sure you will have all seen, in my endeavour to solve the issue of the Zombie and Aliens. Interestingly those alien Nano-spacecraft look like tennis balls which seems rather apt. If you are reading the paperback …..AH sorry about the fact you (still) can’t see the photo, if you have not seen Blow-up……. Ah sorry about that but the Zombie did it…………. HAH HAHAH hah hah hahhah hah ha hahhahah ha, if you have seen the film OK I lied.
Ok I am off now, it is a bit too wet to write a good daily diary post, I might manage something better tomorrow, and the Ghost Writer and I are off to get, or move the Cultural Olympian in the morning. It appears he might end up in the middle of a mad ceilidh so I need to save him from a fate worse than death, which when you are made of cardboard is being offered a beer or two. He will just get all soft and floppy and be no good for man nor beast.