More on the Jerusalem bus bomb

Haaretz reports that the Al Aqsa Murderers' Brigade has claimed responsibility for the mass murder this morning. And one witness said this:

"It was like a pastoral scene — the sun was shining and it was serene outside — but the bus was a nightmare. Bodies were sitting in their chairs, burnt, motionless," said witness Drora Resnick. "There were burnt children sitting together. People started rushing off the bus, but they were still there, not moving."

Bus Bomb in Jerusalem

On a morning when 400 Palestinian prisoners are being released, the men of violence, the sowers of hatred, murder 10 innocent people and maim at least 30 others.

Doubtless public condemnation will be reserved for Israel if she takes retaliatory action.

Read more on An Unsealed Room.

I discover penicillin

A week or so ago I used my blender to make a banana and strawberry smoothie (Mmmm — smoothie). Washing up the blender seemed a task too great for me at the time, and this morning when I found the courage, mould was growing inside. It has a pleasant disinfectant-y sort of smell.

Laziness? I wish it were that simple. It is the same lethargy that grips me when I can't even move myself into a more comfortable position on my chair.

Frost

Robert, that is, 1874-1963.

This is one of his best-known poems, and appropriate for the weather we're having. Proper Arctic it is, or even Siberian [ahem]

STOPPING BY WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Snow

I am speaking to you from the white hell that was once the south-east of England. It's been at least an hour since the snow began, and I have to reach a painful decision — do I ration our supplies and/or eat the dog?

Here are two pics from my front door, and one of the back garden:

What did I say?

TRAVEL CHAOS AS BRITAIN TURNS ARCTIC, screams the headline on Yahoo News. The article, from Sky News, goes on to say:

Snow, ice and freezing temperatures have brought travel misery to commuters across Britain. Thirteen centimetres of snow fell on Peterborough in Cambridgeshire overnight and temperatures are expected to drop as low as -15 centigrade in parts of the North. Conditions on the roads are particularly treacherous, while many train travellers have had to contend with delays and cancellations. ... Although the south-east escaped the worst of the weather, London Underground chiefs appeared to be caught unprepared, even though the severe conditions were predicted up to a week ago. Consequently, there were no services at all on sections of the Metropolitan, Jubilee, Piccadilly and Central lines. The South Eastern, South Central and Chiltern train companies all reported delays due to "adverse weather conditions".

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

I suppose that if I were a Blogger worth my salt, I would be firing off reams about the Hutton Report. Well I'm not (going to fire off reams, that is). And that's all I'm going to say on the subject.

My headline says it all: it's cold. Worse than the weather is the siege mentality that grips everyone, egged on by the media. The hint of a snowflake and the supermarkets are crowded with people 'stocking up' as though they expect to spend the next few months completely cut off.

The authorities speak grimly of being prepared this time, of not 'having a repeat of last year' (when Britain ground to a halt), of having spent millions on grit to ensure the roads stay open.

The media waffle on about Arctic or Siberian weather. It's neither. It's perfectly normal weather for these latitudes at this time of year. Why does everyone insist on behaving as though this is somehow unexpected or out of the ordinary?