Weather? It snoo all day... (From Gazette & Herald)

Weather? It snoo all day...

YOU may recall I mentioned the name of the King's Head, on Scarborough Road, close to the Norton railway bridge, which I hadn't been able to trace, although I did have the information that King's Row had taken its name from that public house. However, George Ellis came to the rescue to tell me that the first house in the row was the actual pub, which was ultimately turned into a normal dwelling-house, and, in fact, was amalgamated with the next house, into one larger house, wherein lived the Ellis family. I had often wondered how they had managed to find room in that one small house, and George's phone call has answered two questions in one. I expect that many original Nortonians will remember those cottages, and indeed the steam railway engines passing close by.

Chatting recently to a lady about the weather - what else? - she recalled that on one important day which lives in her memory: "It snoo all day, and then it snoo for the next two or three days." Being a Yorkshire lad, I knew what she meant, but I should think that some later generations might not have done. I haven't come across this as a written word before, but it was certainly a normal part of everyday language in Yorkshire some decades ago. Being, of course, the local word for the past-tense of snow. Today we might well say "snowed", but it seemed the old word lingers on yet, and I wonder if it is of East Riding origin? I love to hear these old words still cropping up. Reminders of days gone by.

My Royal Canadian Air Force Newsletter drops through my letter box each month from Simi Valley, in California, where 902 Wing holds sway. It tells of the wonderful efforts of the fire-fighting aircraft and crews who tackled the raging fires there last year. It said: "some of our members just had to watch from the backs of their houses, as the flames spread closer", and the report tells of the bravery of the crews, of no less than 400 aircraft who tackled the blaze to drop water or retardant on the trees, risking their lives as they narrowly missed smoke-covered power lines to douse fire creeping up on people's homes. Gus, our honorary editor, tells how "water bombing" actually began in Canada, around 1924, in Ontario, when Curtiss seaplanes were used as spotters for the ground fire-fighters. But it wasn't until 20 years later that the same province actually dropped water, and just 40 gallons at a time. This was largely ineffective, as it tended to come down as a spray, and what was needed was a single 'wham' that would cut off the air in one quick splash.

Progress was made when the de Havilland Beaver was able to drop 66 gallons, and then the de H Otter with 183 gallons. After the war, Fortresses and Liberators were adapted, as well as Catalinas, and in 1959 the huge 'Mars' could drop 6,000 gallons. At this time, the constellations took over, using a red retardant injected into the water, which had an immediate effect. Gus says that the top of the nearest rocky mound to his home remained red for years. Canada pioneered in fire-fighting and sold over 100 of their latest CL-215 aircraft, worldwide, and then came the 'Superscooper' which could skim the surface of the nearest lake and fill its tanks with 1,620 gallons in a few seconds, without touching down. The latest development goes to the Japanese, with the 'Shin Maywa', which lets go 15 tons in a single drop. A far cry from the de H Beaver's 66 gallons!

An interesting letter from Nick Fletcher, of Norton, recently on the subject of Living Spaces. He says that grants are available to help improve open spaces so that the whole community can benefit from the openness. This has always been a bone of contention with me, for each time a little bit of space becomes available, the developers are in with bricks and mortar. The nicest towns and cities in this country are those with open spaces which have been developed into parks (not car parks) and yet the odds are stacked against the people all the time. The developers want to erect as many houses on a specific area as they can cram in. High-density housing is the name of the game, and Malton has a fair share of this. The idea is that they get more money for their products. Trying to get the density reduced is hard work, for not only does it mean less for the developers, but ultimately less for the council which levies the taxes on the dwellings. Living Spaces is a wonderful environmental ideal, and should always be on the minds of the planners. I wonder if they ever look beyond the plans of the buildings put in front of them? There's more to planning than just buildings. It's called living space.

And talking of planning, I spotted a headline which says, "Make friends with the planners." I don't think should be taken too literally or there will be accusations of favouritism and even worse. India, I believe, has the worst reputation in this respect, where nothing can be done without money changing hands, and planners and other officials should never be put into the unenviable position of having shown favouritism or bending the law, as was recently mentioned in these pages. Impartiality is the name of the game. Whoever it is! Whoever it is!

Age. One starts to get young at the age of 60, and then it's too late. Pablo Picasso. Spanish artist. 1881-1973.

Updated: 11:10 Wednesday, January 14, 2004