Earlier today I was hurtling along a bypass on an emergency mission to acquire coffee — the kind of crisis that demands swift, decisive action.

There I was on a dual carriageway, approaching the section where the road very helpfully provides an entire forest of signs instructing you to get into the correct lane. Left lane peels off to a roundabout, right lane carries on. Simple. Elegant. Fool‑proof. Or so one would hope.

In the left lane: a van, indicating right. In the right lane: an estate car, indicating left. No traffic ahead of them. Plenty of space behind them (courtesy of me, being a considerate and patient soul). A straightforward manoeuvre. One speeds up, the other slows down, they swap, everyone goes home happy.

But no.

The van accelerated to get in front of the estate. The estate, apparently offended by this audacity, accelerated to get in front of the van. The van, equally unwilling to be bested, accelerated again. And so began the Great Lane‑Swap Duel of 2026, two vehicles locked in a petty, pointless drag race toward the point of no return.

And then — the inevitable. Both of them missed their turnings.

The van, realising its folly, had to peel off, loop around the roundabout, and rejoin the road. Mild inconvenience. A lesson learned, perhaps.

The estate, however, sailed majestically past its exit and was condemned to travel many, many miles before the next junction where it could finally turn around and contemplate its life choices.

So, Dear Reader, I put the question to you: Are we, as a species, getting dumber… or have we simply perfected the art of being ridiculous?

Yes I know it’s spelled Karmic, but why miss out on the opportunity of a pun 😉

Last night on my commute home, I came upon a long straight stretch of road that for once was clear of all traffic in either directions (myself excluded) So I got to travel along at the speed limit <cough>slightly over</cough>. There I am, happily travelling along when WHOOSH!!!

A black sports car goes flying past me at least 20 mph over the legal limit, and heading for an unbelievably twisty, winding mountain pass at a seriously unsafe speed. I barely have time to shake my head at the stupidity when a red sporty BMW comes whooshing up as well, but due to oncoming traffic coming out the mountain pass, he has to pull in behind me.

NOTE: I think they were racing, which is stupid and dangerous on normal roads, but on Welsh country roads? which are very twisty and you can not see far ahead, and any bend could be hiding tractors, horse riders, sheep or cows, its fraking stupid!

After the oncoming cars pass, the driver of the BMW decides to overtake, but since we are now entering the pass he can’t, so instead he pulls back in behind me and tries to communicate with me. He flashes his headlights loads, then speeds up so his bumper is almost touching mine, and starts revving his engine with the clutch in to make it roar.

Alas, since I do not speak TrippleD (Dangerous Driving Dick)  I try my best to translate.

• Flashing Headlight: If I recall the highway code, this means Danger? A Warning.
• Bumper to Bumper: No idea, maybe he’s trying to hug me.
• Revving Engine Like mad: Ah, my engine is going to fast?

OK, he is obviously telling me I am driving too fast and I need to slow down. So I do, right down to 30 mph. I believe I guessed the translation correctly as he stops flashing his lights and pulls back a bit. But he keeps doing the revving loudly thing, the poor thing much be worried I will loose control on a bend. SO even thought I am going really slow, I break for every bend, and go round them almost at a crawl.

What seems like hours later (Gods, it seemed to take forever to navigate the pass at a crawl) we reach the end, and my friend hugs me again by going bumper to bumper, then pulls out into the path of oncoming traffic forcing them to practically do an emergency stop, before he shot off up the road and out of sight.

“Gosh darn, that’s a bit dangerous” I announced

I did not expect to see him again, well maybe sticking out of a hedge, or upside down in a ditch. So imagine my surprise when a short while later I turned a bend and came right up behind the TripleD in the red BMW. Now double that surprise when I realise in front of him is the TripleD in the black sports car that blurred past me before the pass. They are both travelling along at a stupid slow speed, because in front of them…

..Was a Farmer, driving a battered old Land Rover. And he was driving practically in the middle of the road blocking both lanes. Whenever a car approached from the other direction, he would pull back into our lane to let them pass before pulling back out to prevent the TripleD’s from overtaking.

I will not lie Dear Constant Reader. I may have given that old farmer a high5, and cheer, there may even have been a tear shed, over the utter brilliance. I felt a kindred spirit with that farmer. Alas I do not believe the TripleD’s understood the great carmic force, they just seemed to be very angry, or giving each other and the farmer hugs. As I said, I do not speak their language.

Drive Safe.

Last night I was visiting a friends Lodge in the deepest, darkest wilderness that is Cheshire, England. It was an enjoyable evening, right up to the end of the meal when I happened to check my phone and spot the following text messages :-

“Snowing like hell and sticking, wouldn’t stay too long, weather warning on TV” 18:49

“Stopped snowing but still a good covering, sky looks like more to come.” 19:41

The time I read these messages, 22:01. YES. Several hours after receiving the warning of bad weather, so just how bad would it be now? Since I am a sensible person (Oi! shut it you!!!) I did not stay for any after meal drinks, or late night esoteric discussions, but left immediately after I finished the apple crumble & custard.

The car-park and surrounding area were snow free when I left, which was a good start to the trip home as I will admit I was feeling a little bit worried. The worry of “will I make it home” was added to by the closure of the main route back into Wales, and many other smaller road closures and diversions, meaning most of my trip would be on lesser roads. Roads that may not be gritted, or used as much.

SO the long journey began, along dark misty roads where I was often the only car travelling. All the time I was ready to start dealing with SNOWMAGEDDON!!

Oddly I made it all the way to Wales without seeing even a single snowflake. I decided this was understandable, It is often snowing in Wales and not in England. SO on we went, ever vigilant for the bad weather. 45 Minutes later, and I was almost home. And other than the mist, I had encountered no adverse weather, there was no snow on the ground, or trees, buildings, anywhere.

SO, Maybe there was a heavy rain earlier that had washed away all the snow? That must be it. So I continued on, not so vigilant and singing along to the cdplayer….

1 mile from home I had a decision to make. My normal route goes down a load of country roads which are best avoided in bad weather. The other option was to travel further on and then come back on myself via the local village where the roads can be safer to use in bad weather. Since there had been NO SIGN OF SNOW, not even the left over snow you get on the side of the road, I decided to risk the back country roads. 10 minutes later, I arrived at the turning to the road I live along, and started to turn.

HOLY FRELLING GORRAM FRAK

The road in front of me was white, the trees, hedges white, everything was under an inch of snow. And it was snowing, and snowing heavy. I skidded to a stop and looked behind me, No snow. In front Snow.

There was actually a line level with the end of the road. one side was a complete covering of snow, the other normal black road. One side it was snowing heavy, the other not even rain.

It was then that I realised. I actually live in Narnia!!!

P.S. For those curious, This morning I left for work and went the other way along my road, and at the other end of the road. Yup. another white line where the snow just stops.

You cant beat a “good ole family barn raising“.

Well, technically there were no barn’s raised, or any barns at all really. And the closet thing to an Amish was a tall blond in skin-tight jodhpurs who walked past at one point. (What is it about boots & Tight Jodhpurs? Sorry Iwas distracted there…).

The other weekend there were three generations of my family doing some work at my parents place. (Gen1) My Father, (Gen2) Me, and (Gen3) two of my Nephews. We were rebuilding some wooden parts of the garden that have started to rot from old age (haven’t we all), and repaint the wooden fences, etc.. (This is Just Scene Setting).

While we were having a much needed ten minute Coffee break, Nephew #1 was talking about a row of houses near where he lives that have all got a government grant to do work on the houses, apart from the end house in the terrace who’s door is on the other road so have missed out. It got mentioned that the grants been going round for ages now (Slowly as all Government stuff tend to do) and that My Grandfather had it for his place, he had the whole place gutted and rebuilt with the grant paying 70% of costs.

This led to the story of the rebuild. Which is such a touching story of Love & Romance that I thought I’d share it with you Dear Reader.

My Grandparents house then was built over an old mine shaft, meaning you could not get a mortgage on the building, and it was a bit unstable. This did mean they were able to buy it for very little money. So when they had the option of a 70% Government grant for building work, My Grandfather jumped at the chance.

After discussions with the builders it was decided to strip building, fill the mine shaft with a concrete plug & cap, rewire the house, re-plumb, Install new central heating, re-plaster, the works. This would involve the floors Upstairs, and down being removed, the walls stripped of existing plaster, and the electric/water being off. Basically the house would be unsuitable to live in for roughly a month.

Now my Grandfather being a practical man, he decided that was no problem. They would simply move into the garage for the month.

I should point out here, the garage was a large building, Brick walls on three sides. The roof was Tin sheeting, and the front wall was a full length wooden door, which only partially fitted with huge gaps. So all in all, a draughty cold room.

To make it more liveable he put the carpets from the house down on the concrete floor, he put a bed, sofa and TV in there along with a kettle and cooker. Now, my Grandmother was not a plan of this idea. She was not living in a cold, spider infested garage.  She wanted to go on holiday while the work was being done, or at least stay in a B&B or Hotel.  So my Grandfather sat her down and explained that they could not go on holiday as someone needed to stay and keep an eye on the builders. Also if the builders saw “an old woman” living in such a bad place they would work harder and get the job done.  He also pointed out that they had a daughter living next door, so they had access to a bath, toilet, and such. After much discussion she finally decided to do what he suggested. So she helped him make the garage more homely and comfortable. After all, they had lived through the War, what was a few weeks of discomfort, as long as they were together.

Two days before the builders were due to start, my Grandmother walked into her bedroom to check everything had been put away. There she saw my Grandfather packing a suitcase with some clothes. Confused she asked him what he was doing. “Didn’t I remind you? I’m off to Australia for a month tour with the choir. Its been booked for over a year.“

He’d never had any intention of living in the garage himself.  He had made it as comfortable as he could for his wife of many many years, he was just not staying in it himself…

Who says chivalry is dead.

I should point out before anyone gets upset about my Grandmother. That after a very long monologue of mostly bad words that would even make a sailor blush, my grandfather was forced able to get a second plane ticket, and upgrade his hotel room to a double, so my Grandmother could go on holiday with him.