We’re drawing to the end of the coldest Glasgow winter in fifty years, according to my informants here. Today it snowed all day (though hardly accumulated, as the temperature was hovering around 0°). Everyone agrees that it’s an extraordinarily long, chilly, snowy winter for Glasgow; I feel apologetic, as though I’m complicit in the importation of New England-y weather.
So, on my way upstairs at the end of the day, my neighbour remarked, “So much for global warming!” to which I responded right away, “Climate change doesn’t mean ‘always warmer,’ just ‘always weirder.’ ” I’m tired of people regarding one day’s weather, or one location’s season of weather, as a putative rebuttal to the mountains of data from around the world — though that does help explain a number of other political phenomena.
Call me “Delayed Gratification Man.”
Well, not exactly — I was practically trembling from the force of a sudden craving for nachos the other day. The UK sells crisps ( = “chips”) mostly in teeny little one-serving bags such as you might put in little Courtney’s school lunch bag. Nonetheless, Alana brought a couple of slightly larger bags of Doritos by my office, and it turns out Tesco (of which a new branch just opened on Byres Road) sells small bags of actual plain mass-produced tortilla chips (without extra flavorings such as “Prickly Pear Doritos” or “Smooth Mint Doritos”).
I poured some of these chips out onto my baking pan, sprinkled grated cheese on them (Red Leicester; I didn’t see any Monterey Jack), some salsa I had bought for a night on which I cooked fajitas, and some faux ground beef, over which I scattered chili powder. Mmmmmmmmmmm.