To tell you the story of the silicon insult, I must go back a week when it seemed that I looked out the window to see a scene that would make Arthur Dent feel at home. If I hadn’t known about the works to happen after a sluggish response to the landslide, I might have thought to go find an electronic thumb.

Instead, I watched as large equipment did things faster than it took them to get set up as they worked on the hill where the landslide happened. It’s largely sandstone, you see. Red.

Since the initial great works began, everything in the area has been covered in the light red silicon dust, with some Saharan dust mixed in for good measure. Friends had been complaining about the state of their sinuses before the works began, but with these works it’s all been kicked up a notch.

My sinuses are pretty much bullet-proof. For whatever reason, I don’t have much trouble with them despite my father’s side of the family having sinus issues. Today, though, it caught up with me after a walk. My sinuses, normally free flowing in some of the worst conditions, were insulted by all this floating silicon.

It’s a silicon insult.

I’m getting past it now with some nasal rinses and fluids, but it was not a ‘turn the other cheek’ sort of insult. We could use a bit of rain just to get the dust down.