We call him ‘Wrong John’. He’s an avatar of John Kettley, the Weatherman. And apparently he communicates with him every early evening so that he can write down a forecast for me to find in the early hours on the steps leading up to the kitchen. This forecast is invariably wrong, hence the moniker. Take this morning, for instance. It was supposed to be heavy rain. It wasn’t. And there was snow. Yes, snow. Not a peep about snow. Not a sniffing. Nothing. Nada. So what’ve you got to say about that, JK?
