Rain. Bees in the workplace. Some more on words. Sneezing. And different views of America.

Granddaughter Number Two posted a message on the family chat this morning: “It Is RAINING raining today, like a proper heavy rain!” I assume she was on her way to work in the office. Had she been working from home, she might not have noticed the rain. Here, it’s just drizzling steadily.

According to newspaper reports, some parts of the country have been having biblical quantities of rain - 40 days and more.

Back in the day, when I was working full time as a sixth form teacher (not allowed to be ill, like the doctors I mentioned yesterday), we were regularly subjected to In-Service Training, often involving team building activities. Here’s a report of a similar idea: 

“In a growing number of workplaces, the soundtrack of the lunch break is no longer the rustle of sandwiches at a desk, but the quiet hum of bees – housed just outside the office window.

Employers from Manchester to Milton Keynes are working with professional beekeepers to install hives on rooftops, in courtyards and car parks – positioning beekeeping not as a novelty but as a way to ease stress, build community and reconnect workers with nature in an era of hybrid work and burnout.

“There’s something very special – almost spiritual – about enabling your employees to take time away from work to see how nature has created the greatest example of how every business should run,” said Chris Payne, a co-founder of Green Folk Recruitment.”

In some cases, it seems, employees are taken on excursions to bee farms. Very nice! But there is still a bit of me that says the time might be better spent. And if emplyers are really concerned about the wellbeing and mental health of their employees maybe shorter working hours and higher wages would be a good idea.”

They might have difficulty with bee hives in those places where the rain doesn’t stop.

It must be something to do with being linguists but Phil and I often wonder about the origin of words and expressions. One of these is ‘a pretty pass’ - we keep using that to comment on the state of the world. So I looked it up:

“The phrase "a pretty pass" originated in England, likely in the late 16th or early 17th century, and is used to describe a situation that has become undesirable or problematic. Its earliest recorded use can be traced back to a comic opera in 1763, highlighting its long-standing presence in the English language

The oldest printed record of the phrase “come to a pretty pass” can be traced back to 1763 in Love in a Village; A Comic Opera by Isaac Bickerstaffe that reads: 

“Hodge. Indeed! Marry come up! Why, then pray let yourself out again. Times are come to a pretty pass; I think you might have had the manners to knock at the door first.” 

“Pretty” word is from Old English prættig, “cunning,” from præt “trick” – unrelated to prat “idiot,” which originally referred to the buttocks (hence pratfall: a fall onto the backside).

By the 15th century, pretty described something cunningly made, crafty or clever, which led to its use to express someone gorgeous or attractive – most commonly a female or kid. However, the diarist Samuel Pepys refers to one Dr. Clarke as a “very pretty man.”

Ironic uses of pretty to refer to something unpleasant are the origins of phrases like “pretty pass,” “pretty state of affairs,” and “pretty kettle of fish”; the latter more often found in the phrase “different kettle of fish.” The kettle here isn’t the kind we use to make tea, but rather a large cooking vessel (from Latin catillus ).”

In an article about sneezing I discovered that sneezing doesn’t make your heart skip a beat or make your eyeballs pop out if you purposefully keep your eyes open (both are urban myths).  Nonetheless it remains true that sneezing while driving a car is one of the most disturbing things as you instinctively close your eyes. Moving from a dull place to a bright exterior can provoke a sneeze; this is an established fact. In our house we call them “sunshine sneezes”. I went to school with a girl who amused us all with her sneezing when we visited Stratford on Avon. Leaving dimly lit places like Anne Hathaway’s cottage had her sneezing repeatedly. I can understand that something tickling your nose can make you sneeze but what I want to know is why certain foods or drinks hitting the back of my throat provoke the same reaction.

Following the fuss about Bad Bunny at the Super Bowl, here’s an interesting set of maps: 

Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!