How's the weather with you? Well it's raining here, just like it has every day since the hosepipe ban came into force. I confidently predicted this outcome, putting my faith in a combination of sod's law and God's way of correcting the planet's little imbalances.
I don't know if you use a hosepipe but here at Marshside Acres it is pretty indispensable, whether we're trying to encourage a few acres of grass seed (we are) or tending the runner beans, so vital to man's well-being (see previous post) or cleaning the fleet of luxury motors. It's this last task that is exercising me today, my other half having inadvertently parked a car under the roosting place of some particularly loose-bowelled pigeons. So it came to pass that a few minutes ago I was outside - in the rain! - with bucket and sponge, trying to remove the avian excrement before it ate its way through the gleaming paintwork.
How silly did I feel? Groups of local peasants gathered round to chuckle at my endeavours, shouting incantations to our local feathered "friends" to confound my efforts while all the time I became wetter and wetter and muttered reminders to myself about buying a gun (to shoot pigeons you understand, not local peasants, although now you mention it...)
All the while, the hosepipe hung mournfully in flaccid disuse. We are allowed to use it to top up the fish pond which means we could also use it to fill the many gushing ornamental fountains that dot the gardens here, as long as we bung a fish in them. (I suppose it has to be a live one.) And there is always the chance that when so doing, some of the water may find its way onto other parts of the garden, quite by accident you understand. But otherwise, we're a hosepipe-free zone (honest).
So should we all get a nice warm glow from the knowledge that our abstinence is warding off the transformation of this green and pleasant land into a new Sahara? That's as well as the warm glow from drying out in front of the fire of course. I was wondering to myself just how much of the UK's water consumption is accounted for by domestic hosepipes when I spotted in the paper that total domestic water use represents only 8% of all the country's water needs. Blimey! Now how much of that domestic consumption goes through a hosepipe? Let's say it's 10% (although I'd bet it's a good bit less than this). This would mean that less than 1% of the UK's water usage is going to be saved by the hosepipe ban. Perhaps much less than 1%.
Now I'm all for staving off the drought but clearly, this particular measure is just a drop in the reservoir. This is very much in the same vein as buying organic vegetables (see previous post) or changing your car to one that does a few more miles to the gallon. You may get a warm glow of self-righteousness from all these things but if you really think you're saving the planet then you are suffering from delusions and descent into madness looms.
Buy a globe and one of Professor Brian Cox's excellent books on the solar system. Upon even the briefest of examinations you will see that the UK is a very small place in the context of the Earth and that the latter is an equally small place when compared to the Sun. These things are a lot bigger than you are so don't waste your time worrying about them and don't kid yourself that your actions are anything other than infinitesimally insignificant.
Instead, get an air rifle and set about those blasted pigeons. We've even got some nesting in the garage for goodness' sake! If you want to save the world, the best course of action is to praise the Lord...and pass the ammo.
3 comments:
Life is just one infinitesimally insignificant action after another. Voting, for example.
I agree. I refer the reader to my previous comments on the failure of the democratic process. It's still raining here by the way...
The question is whether the insignificance of the impact of the act renders it insignificant to the perpetrator ... I find voting and recycling quite significant in my life, if insignificant in the great scheme of things.
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