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Where the Wind Blows

Hurricane Henry, Gertrude, Katy, Senga… Why the sudden desire to name what is ostensibly just a freak storm?

And who gets to pick the names? Is there a group of storm chasers who watch and wait – tracking the Cyclones and wind tunnels. And do all these people get to name their chosen wind?

Wind of course can come in other guises too  – blowing gently off the sea, whipping the waves into enticing hurdles to jump, allowing the boats to bob along gracefully.

Then there’s wind that has no place in any vicinity other than the toilet!

It does still strike me as odd how quickly gases can build up in the digestive system looking for an escape route.

Not a problem really if that escape route is above the belly button but not so pleasant the other end! There are certain foods that absolutely get things going for many of us and the result can be extraordinarily embarrassing.  I know I’ve mentioned this before – but recently  I bit into a sandwich that had raw peppers and cucumber in. Within seconds I could feel the burbling and gurgling commence. Thank goodness Ma-in-law had Gaviscon is all I can say. We were due to bid adieu to Pa-in-law and what we didn’t need was an explosion from me at the crematorium.

A colleague regaled us with how he had walked into what he thought was an empty classroom, determined to catch up on reports in peace – away from his phone and emails.

Walking over to his desk he felt that familiar bubbling in his lower abdomen and working its way toward the light at the end of a dark tunnel. Feeling relaxed in his environment confessed to really letting rip  – a good old fashioned fart.

It was only as he went to sit at his desk that he heard two pupils giggling. Fortunately for him they exited quickly leaving sir very red faced.

Where the wind blows – a poem

gusty blowy a willow the wisp

a breeze a whisper a fluttering by

a fallen tree a tattered roof

a fallen hat is whipped up high

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