Failure in Intercessory Prayer

Can all Beaker Folk who work in Milton Keynes, London, Oxford, Bedford or Luton notice that, despite a rather lovely covering to the landscape, covered as it is by a shawl of beauty sufficient for the purity of the Blessed Virgin herself, the roads are all open and the railways running OK. so you can get out and go to work.

So those of you who insisted on holding an all-night "snow service" to pray for a snow day, are going to be very tired, aren't you. As I told you, it only works if it's in line with the will of the Creator.And s/he obviously wants everyone in at work today. I can't pretend to understand why - even the firstborn cherub struggles to plumb the depths of love divine - but maybe somebody else was praying to be able to get somewhere, and you balanced out so God decided on a compromise?

Festival of Snow-related Bad Theology

Since we had to cancel the  Global Warming event we were quite excited at Young Keith's suggestion of a "Festival of Snow-related Theology". His idea was that everyone in the community should have to stand up and give us an insight into humanity and its relationship to the Divine, using a snow or ice-related illustration.

What he didn't tell us was that he had a crack team of snowballers, ready to strike if anyone toppled over into whimsy or bad theology. Which, let's be honest, was always going to be likely.

Goffrey was first. He explained how he always saw the nature of God in terms of the threefold nature of water - that the Father is the steady, regular pattern of ice; Jesus the living water; the Spirit is like steam, which bloweth where it will as it comes out of a kettle. I think Goffrey is quite lucky. In the old days he would've been burnt at the stake for modalism like that - not just covered in snow.

I took a fair number of snowballs myself for my response to Goffrey. Iexplained that a more reasonable analogy to the Trinity can be made in terms of the triple point of water. Turns out when explaining a mystery, one shouldn't use an illustration nobody can comprehend. Even if you use a phase diagram. The last words I heard before things all got a bit confused was "what state is this then, O Wise One?"

Hnaef was up next. He explained how he also used ice-related illustrations for the trinity. So there are six sides to every snowflake, recognising the sixfold nature of the water atom (I let this go - it probably wasn't worth arguing with). And then there are two natures of Christ - human and divine. And two times three is... well, thankfully he was cut off at that point by a hail of snow and had to take cover before he got into any more trouble.

Charlii stood up and said  what did snowflakes and fingerprints have in common? To which Young Keith's uncle, the police officer, replied that they can both give away the identity of a criminal - footprints in the snow being a means of following the miscreants back from the scene of crime. No, replied Charlii - they're both unique. Your fingerprints are yours and nobody else's and no two snowflakes are ever the same - so we are all special and unique. To which Burton, reasonably I thought, asked how did she know this and how could she prove it? Which scientist, asked Burton, had ever measured and categorised every snowflake that ever fell or will ever fall? Charlii stuttered a bit as she wondered whether these two "facts" were really true after all. Which was fateful. We had to dig her out the snow with a spade. Still, she's still a vast improvement over our last trainee druid, who was tarred and feathered after that talk on the Christian roots of Margaret Thatcher's politics.

Mansfield Woodhouse butted in at this point. He has always been one of the more moral of the Woodhouse family - especially compared with his mother, who sits at home day after day having successive fits of the vapours and failing to make matches for her sons. Should we not, said Mansfield, rather see morality as an icy landscape - where if we take a step from the straight and narrow we may stray onto a slippery slope and shoot off downhill to disaster?

I'm afraid by this stage I was cold, grumpy and fed up with theology. So I switched on the sprinkler system in the Moot House. Everybody's a lot closer to the nature of frozen water now, although their theology's no better than it was. Still, I feel we've all learnt something.

Knowing your Onians

As the snow buckets down across England, tonight we in Husborne Crawley will light a paraffin-wax, fossil-fuel tea light in honour of Charles Onians.

I believe that Charles is still a working journalist, although I've not noticed much in the way of his work lately - especially around the subject of global warming. But every time snow breaks out in England, all the people that don't believe in anthropogenic global warming link to Charles's item in 2000 - "Snowfalls are now just a thing of the past". As an Independent article it was a perfect example of its kind - of the highest Green potentials, scare-mongering in an intellectual kind of way and ahead of its time. At least 12 years ahead of its time as it turns out. Although, of course, he could turn out to be right in the end.

And so once again, as on many similar days over the last few years, we remember Charles Onians. And all across England, others will do likewise. I suppose you could call it his "Michael Fish" moment. We will celebrate by singing Marillion's 1989 song, Season's End. Makes me melancholy to think it's nearly a quarter of a century since they made this terrifying prophecy.


Getting close to Season's End, I heard somebody say
That it might never snow again in England.
Snowflakes in a newborn's fist, sledging on the hill
Are these things we'll never see, in England?

(Answer - No).

Only in Britain

Whenever the weather's a little snowy we always hear that complaint. "Every year it catches us by surprise. Only in Britain".

Well, I've come to the conclusion that's not true. For starters there's the case of poor Hnaef. 48 hours stuck in Munich airport, so long he had to buy in emergency pairs of underpants. Although, from his description of the items, I think he may have gone mad from snow-blindness and bought himself lederhosen instead. And elsewhere even the hyper-efficient Germans have had to stop running trains. Although I don't know whether that's because of the snow, or because they've stopped burning Euros to power them.

And then we have the Belgians. 400 miles of traffic jams. Is it only me that thinks they don't have that much road even in the summer? It's probably some con to get an EU grant for more grit. And 10,000 buses stranded in Normandy and Brittany. Not that there will be any fewer passengers, I dare say the drivers merely sneer as they go past at the best of times. And they run their buses on dodgy Calvados, which they get EU grants for. Which we pay for. Out of the tax that the ConDem government levies on road salt and anti-freeze.  And what about those Qataris? Six inches of snow and I reckon they'd grind to a standstill. Never prepared for snow, the Qataris.

This has been brought to you by "Abroad is bloody and foreigners are fiends". A subsidiary of the English media's reaction to its World Cup disappointment.

A stray thought

The airport said "they'd never seen snow like it", reports the BBC News in a snowpocalypse story.

"never seen snow like it"? It was white, made of frozen water, and fell out of the sky. Just how abnormal was that? I've seen white snow falling downwards loads of times.

Remaking of Beakers

Unfortunately, last night's frost caused the water in the beakers to expand, splitting the beakers.  A lesson to all of us there. Tomorrow we'll have to put some salt in. In the meantime, please can you all make your way to the Potting Shed. We need a new supply of beakers, and you should find it nice and warm with the kiln and all.

Signs of Spring

The first glimpse of daylight is now visibly earlier every day.  This morning was so warm that even Hnaef only wore three sets of overcoats for the now-restored "Pouring out of Beakers".  And I saw a pheasant circling anti-clockwise over the Experimental Farm.  It can only mean one thing.  Though the Equinox is a long way off, the first stirrings of the year are taking place.
I guess that's about it for the depths of winter.

Weather Warning

The Met Office has issued a weather warning for the East of England.

Outbreaks of rain, sleet and snow during Wednesday have left roads and pavements wet in many areas. The temperature will fall below freezing, while our incompetent government and Met Office were convinced it would never be cold again so the local authorities didn't bother buying enough salt to cover a British winter.  This will lead to the formation of widespread ice on untreated roads and pavements during the evening, overnight and during Thursday morning.  If we're lucky we'll have some salt in about June time so we can more or less guarantee no icy roads then.  Not that it would matter.  There are now so many pot holes in them you won't be going anywhere.

The Beaker Folk of Husborne Crawley would like to welcome you back to the New Stone Age.

Quantitative Freezing*

I must confess, I don't really understand the problem.

When the worldwide financial system was in crisis over the last couple of years, Gordon Brown just invented some more money and the problem went away.

That being so, now we're being told that Local Authorities have to halve the salt they use on the roads - why doesn't he just invent some more salt?  Given he fixed a huge problem like the credit crunch this way, why won't it work for a little problem like some ice?

Hnaef will be out spreading imaginary salt around the courtyard tonight to get rid of the ice and snow.  So if you slip and fall over tomorrow, it's all your own fault for not believing hard enough.


* Updated - just thought of a better title..

Sympathetic Magic

The use of Sympathetic Magic in old religions is of course well-documented.  It is believed* that one of the reasons that bonfires were lit at Samhain, Yule, Beltane, etc was to prompt the sun into offering of its own rays - that the sun god, seeing our puny fires down on earth, would be encouraged to pour out the blessings of his warmth.  At Beltane the hope was that the sun would continue to strengthen.  At Samhain, that he wouldn't dwindle away.  And at Yule, that he wouldn't disappear completely.
We retain the tradition of lighting bonfires and/or wicker people (we accept male and female wicker people of all genders and several) at various key times of the year.  Unlike our forebears, with generations of scientific training and post-modern cynicism behind us we just like lighting bonfires.

All of which may give some background to this morning's rather odd events. Encouraged by my downgrading of the snow alert, Burghley and Edith Weston, rather than hiding out from the cold, went to the opposite extreme.
Running around the courtyard dressed in bermuda shorts, flower-print tops and sunglasses could be classed as tasteless at most seasons of the year.  But in the current climate I think that "suicidally dim" might be a better classification.
Needless to say, after half an hour of chanting, laying down on the snow as if sunbathing and shouting "ooh isn't it warm", they were both struck down with hypothermia.  It would appear that the sun has resolutely refused to come out in sympathy, and our real concern is that the spirits of the snow may have regarded it as some kind of botched sacrifice to them, in which case we're all in real trouble.
All in all, the worst bit of sympathetic magic since the Prophets of Baal nicked themselves shaving.  Enjoy the link, to a "children's" page which manages to treat the mass-execution of a group of (no doubt sincere, well-meaning) people in quite a light-hearted way, I think.

* Or at least, lots of books say.  None of the old people left any writings.

Snow alert over

In line with Mr Ed Balls's advice, we are now lowering the Snow Alert from White to Off-White.  Which in short means, there are no longer any excuses.  No pulling the duvet over your head and claiming you're "snowed-in" on the East wing (OK, there was that problem with the hole in the roof but that was soon rectified.)

No, the temperature's hovering around zero, there's just the odd flake forecast, the howling wind you can feel is a figment of your imagination and stuff is back to normal.

Now chip the ice out of your beakers, get out there in the snow and worship, you wusses!

NB Hnaef will be staying in, as he just slipped over on the ice.

The Nationalisation of Salt

I note that Northamptonshire has been forced by the Government to cancel an order for 4,000 tonnes of road salt,  so the Government can send it somewhere that the need is greater.
Northants, a fine county in the East Midlands, has several major towns and a lot of rural roads.  The population is 650,000.  Being resolute folk, I am sure they will struggle around the place on ungritted roads, although the ditches around Northampton, Daventry and Kettering will no doubt gradually fill with cars as they skid off.
I wonder where could be more in need?  Counties that haven't bothered to order in grit, presumably.  Sadly the people of Northamptonshire will be unable to register a vote in those other counties to protest at the theft of their grit.
Meanwhile on the radio I heard a member of a local government association explaining that they hadn't ordered enough grit in because they hadn't been warned it was going to be cold.  Which begs two questions.  First of which is - didn't they know winter was coming?  And the second - which is like unto it - did the Met Office's Gaia-inspired prophecy of a mild winter, encouraged by the need to big up Global Warming at all times, con the local authorities of our land into thinking it would never freeze again?

In the mean time, good luck to the people of Corby, Wellingborough and Yelvertoft.  I am sure you will all be pleased, as you skid across your roads, to know that everyone's nicely gritted in Peckham and Tower Hamlets.

Epiphany

In a flurry of activity and Twitter in-jokes, the Beaker People celebrated Twelfth Night in the traditional manner tonight.

First of all, we dined on our traditional Epiphany meal, Kippers a la Buckingham. We ate these around the Christmas tree, or Yule Besorry in the original Norse tongue. Then we cut it down with loppers, and trimmed it down with clippers before turning into a mulch with the chippers.

Then out to the Orchard for our Wassail.

Wassailing has a long and noble history in the annals of these islands. For full 30 centuries long people have assembled in orchards to sing to the spirits of the apple trees and drink lots of hot cider. In the belief that through this sympathetic magic, the trees will be encouraged to a good crop the following autumn. And to express the truth of the circles of nature, the cycle of the crop, the windmills of your mind, and the need to drink some hot cider when it's cold. And who are we to argue with a tradition like that? In good Beaker fashion we headed out among the trees, armed with mulled cider, toast and Ugg boots, to sing the Beaker Wassail song:

Wassail wassail we are so cold
Our toes are turning black
Hats full, caps full, cups full, buckets full
Why don't traditional songs rhyme?

Then we shot our shotguns into the trees. Or we would have done. But for Health and Safety reasons, we weren't allowed to use shotguns in such a confined space. So we would have used replica guns, or starter guns, but Edith Weston objected to us using any kind of gun-shaped object on the grounds that it was glorifying violence.

So we threw toast at the trees, drank their health, and piled into the Room of Viewing to see the BBC Special "Ooh it's cold". Tradition. Don't you love it?

Local Cancelled Events in Full

Sadly the Husborne Crawley Radio Snowline Programme is off the air due to the snow, so I've a list of events that have been cancelled tonight due to the weather and other reasons.  If you've got any questions don't bother to phone us as we'll be out in the Orchard wassailing.  We've a couple of gallons of mulled cider, a big bonfire and plenty of toast.  We know how to rough it when we have to.

• Traditional Epiphany Swim in the Pond - cancelled as we can't break through the ice.
• Snowball fight in Big Meadow - cancelled on Health and Safety advice, because of the danger of snow.
• Ladies' Bright Hour - Cancelled due to a power cut.
• The lecture on "Global Warming - Here and Now" has had to be cancelled due to the lecturer being snowed in.
• The "Night of Ten Thousand Watt torches, scheduled for the Lower Field, has been called off due to the risk of snow blindness.
• Clairvoyants' evening at the Reading Room - cancelled due to unforeseen circumstances*
• We've decided to postpone the "Winter Wonderland Experience" until April, in the hope that the weather might be a bit better.
• Luton Town vs Oxford United - match abandoned due to lack of interest.  Again.

What's really annoying me is, after years of taking the mickey out of the 4x4 drivers in the community because they drive these super over-sized cars they never get any real use out of, they're suddenly driving around looking really smug because they can get out of the car park without smashing into the Great Trilithon.  Still, we will have the last laugh.  After midnight, Hnaef and I are going to hose all their cars down.  Let's see them try and get into them in the morning...

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*Sorry.  I know.

Advent Calendar 17 - "Where's Drayton"?

That day we played "hide the Assistant".  Oh how we laughed.  But he managed to untie himself in the end.

Can you see the Assistant to the Executive Assistant Archdruid hidden in this photo?  If so, you're the kind of deluded person we need in Husborne Crawley...