It is with much sadness I am writing this letter. I watched the weather forecast on television on Monday the 16th July, and I was delighted to see that you were predicting the forecast for the following day to be sunny, only a very slight wind you said, that it would be relatively calm. From start to finish the words from your mouth were pure music to my ears. I went to bed a relaxed person in spite of the fact I was having a barbeque the following day for twenty. To a young man like you that doesn’t seem like a lot to cater for, but an old woman like me it’s quite a crowd. But I was happy with the weather and as you well know that is very important for a barbeque.
I finalised all my plans and hit the sack at ten thirty, again let me explain that is a very late hour for the aged. I slept sound I even dreamt about my father who passed away many years ago. It was a happy dream I woke to the sound of my alarm clock which is a cuckoo clock tone set up by my grand niece on my digital clock.
I pulled the cord of my bedroom curtain, again a special cord for the elderly that my nephew Bart installed for me. He is working and living in America and he also, was invited to my party. He was looking forward to playing music outdoors; he is a very talented musician you know. When I looked out my window I couldn’t believe my eyes, I even blinked a few times to make sure I was awake. The wind and rain were almost coming in through the glass to me. The bunting my neighbours put up around my driveway was flying high across the road on top of a big sycamore tree. I went down stairs and out the back door with me, young man (I forgot where I wrote down your name, and you only appear on my T.V twice a week. I’m so upset I can’t wait for your next appearance to recall your title) where was I, oh indeed yes the rain. It was just as bad out in my back garden were my party was to be held.
I won’t go in to details of my birthday party that is for another letter but I would like you to explain to me, by return of post, how a weather forecaster got the weather prediction for the following day so incorrect. I must sign off now and go to my craft class for the elderly.
Sincerely
A confused birthday lady
Marge.
Meteorological Office
Dublin
Dear Marge
I received your letter an hour ago; I rush to write this before the post leaves the meteorological building. It was very regrettable the weather forecast didn’t shine for your party. But unfortunately we are never one hundred percent sure of the prediction. You probably know that in Ireland always prepare for the rain no matter what.
Any further queries your relations will help you log on to our weather site at weatherirish.c
Ralph.
Ivy Lane
Leafy Drive
West Cork
Dear Ralph.
Let me begin by telling I am well versed in logging on to the internet, I email my relations weekly, and sometimes more frequent. I did a course on computers for the aged, I was top of the class, and I’m enclosing a copy of the photograph that appeared in the newspaper on completing the six week training.
I’m not happy with your reply at all. In fact I was talking to my neighbour at the craft class yesterday and she told me you gave an incorrect forecast last week. Her son was going harvesting the crops; he cancelled due to the weather. The morning in question low and behold the sun was splitting the stones.I could go on and on with examples, but I need an explanation why in a world of weather satellites, education, modern equipment, you name ‘em ye have them. What is the problem.
My father, you remember in my previous letter I mentioned I was dreaming about him. Well he was gifted at telling the weather. He was always correct. He never had all the equipment you have nowadays. I do not accept the explanation you gave in your letter. I don’t know what is happening at your place of work, because ye are not doing a good job.
I intend to go public with this scandal. But I will wait until I hear from you again.
An angry old lady
Marge
Meteorological Office
Dublin
Dear Marge
I now am angry. You said you wouldn’t go public until you received a reply from me. The press are at my workplace every day. We were the heading of the news last night.
And what is worse the weather forecast has been suspended until an enquiry is completed. We, here at the met. Station knew there was no way of predicting the weather. Now everyone does.
Green Soft air A cloud crying Sun bursting Flowers follow the heat Fish jump Avoiding a hook Sometimes Barbeque perfume Floating Hungary mouths Fresh from The beach Swallows fly Low Fearless The sun dazzle on the waves Atomising and searing A tourist lost Happy Music out doors Coffee and a beer Children munching A mind Forgetting school Elders Resurrecting Colour clothes Bought Moons ago Still admired Tennis World cup A goal Not Vuvuzela Humming Men in shorts Cut grass That grows Again No government Only recharging Hoping a new think Mountain of ice-cream Melting To thoughts Beyond the brain Ham sandwich shared With a fly Knowing The longest day Gone Dark gets ready For work again But Now Enjoying Summer.
The man
Voice a soft tone, strong
Must be old, tidy
Dressed aptly
An aged hippy
Stressing personal issues
Loves the water
Wavy peace
Still dreams
Of a journey to anywhere
A place less travelled
Talks to the shopkeeper
And the man at the bus stop
They always nod an agreement
Loves West Cork
Should have lived there
Fifty years before
A nomad at heart
One of a few living the sermon
Now no sightings
Wonder where he is
Must be
Camouflaged with the leaves
Growing life
Little miss baby happy gurgling
A tiny beauty
Crying only for a short time
Smiling eyes big and bright
The toddler stumbles but soon upright
Getting stronger for the path of life
Preteen awkwardness
And hurrying to be mature
The indiscretion of youth
Exuberant attitude
A pleasure to all
Moving on to the adult world
People trying to escape it
Starting to reminisce on past times
Middle age moving to old age
Now clinging to life
Searching for a prescription
A secret to linger on and live
Forever
Lighting the water
A light was seen on the boat nightly
At the old pier
A glow warm and wet
The craft hugged the radiance
The hum of the engine in the belly of the boat
And the skipper prepared for take off
Bouncing out to sea
The light perched high up with the masts
Can be seen at shore from a misty window
Moving to the horizon line
Fading
Miles from the company of land
The crew work under the bright radiance
Skipper remarking
This light has a longer life then usual
A rest for one man some food for another
Chief gazing at the reflection of the light
On the water where previous fishermen
Lye
Their lives echo around him
Heaving with a full catch
The boat heads for land
Leaving a trail of light
Like the crumbs from the
Gingerbread house
A Promise
May your friends be as many as the promises you keep
May you win the election with the votes that you seek
Hope you do good work for the citizen you stand for
And they won’t complain about you all anymore
In one years’ time the road will be repaired
In months to come the children will be well cared
The aged won’t have to demonstrate anymore
To let the world know being alive ‘aint such a chore
Crime will be tackled straight away without excuse
And the youngsters will be taught how to deal with the booze
Tell the natives to buy local and encourage grow your own
And eco friendly cars will drive around the town
Please get a place for our money that is safer than the bank
We like to hear the sound of our money go clink clank
The bosses there can’t count wish they learn very fast
The stocks and shares need to rise quite soon just like yeast
Dear politicians I’m afraid things won’t change for a while
Despite the fact the locals complain saying you’re like bile
Time passes we forget ‘till election time comes again
Please vote for us they implore new promises will begin
