And so it goes on...

I know I’m re-treading old ground here, but someone needs to have a word with the UK National Storm Naming Department. I love the name Emma. I think it’s a strong, traditional British stalwart as well as being very pleasing to look at when written down (more on this in a later posting, perhaps, but I have a bit of a thing about the visual pleasure of casting a glance upon certain words.) There have been great ‘Emma’s  through the ages, from the fictional one in that book by a Bronte, to the Thompson one who is just a gem, to the Watson one who is impressively, if incomprehensibly, one of the most financially successful movie actresses of all time. 
Anyway - my point is - Emma is a suitable name for many people and many positions, but it is NOT the name of a storm. An ‘Emma’ should be a teaching assistant at a primary school, or a dental hygienist, or a clerk to a parish council; it should NOT be a havoc-causing, freeze-inducing blast of Arctic wind. 
There. 
In other news, it’s still treacherous outside but at least I was able to collect my car from the side of the road. Philippa dropped me off before she carted herself into the doctors surgery. (She works there now, don’t forget, she wasn’t rocking up for a blood test or anything.) I don’t envy her today. I get to sit in my office watching iPlayer while my staff deal with half the amount of customers we’d usually get on a Friday; she gets to sit at a reception desk surrounded by ill people and dealing with angry old folk who haven’t been able to leave the house for two days, and she has only six weeks experience of working there. Bless her. I shall buy some special ingredients today and cook her a special meal to cheer her up tonight. Assuming I can get home ok. ‘Emma’ may yet dump more snowdrifts on us and leave me stranded at the garage. 

RC 2-3-18