From: AfPhantom
Newsgroups: alt.fan.pratchett
Subject: [I] Let it snow...
Date: Tue, 4 Apr 2000 18:35:06 +0100
Well, it has been another freezing cold day up there in Sellafield, West Cumbria; with frost on the ground, ice over the plutonium store and snowflakes settling softly like a whipped-cream topping on the bloody great big cooling-tower meringues that dominate the skyline. [1]
In all this unseasonal wintry splendour - 'midst a backdrop of steam billowing from various vents and orifices in the ground from the cooling system - I was put in mind of a certain well-known song, with the following result...
***
Let it Blow
Oh the weather outside is frightful,
There are guards outside with rifles,
And the cooling tow'rs blocked with snow;
Let it blow, let it blow, let it blow!
The plant growth is slowly stopping
And the fish are beached and flopping;
But as long as the press don't know,
Let it blow, let it blow, let it blow!
When I finally leave the site
How I'll hate driving home in the storm
But, with isotopes down my tights[2]
All the way home I'll be warm!
The seagulls are slowly dying
And my dear, the sheep are frying
But, so long as our light-bulbs glow,
Let it blow, let it blow, let it blow!
Sorry to go all topical on you - I just couldn't help myself ;-)
AfPhantom (three days left at Sellafield, and then awaaaaay!)
[1] Ginderbread houses, pah! You should see what the *reactor* housings are made from - gingerbread'd be an _improvement_...
[2] I don't *actually* wear tights as a rule, but any alternative would have meant abandoning the original rhyming scheme; something I am loath to do under most circumstances.
That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.
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