"It sounds hoarse, doesn't it?" I asked my cello teacher the other day. "Yes," she said. I shifted my Czech made instrument and ran the bow along the D string. It gave off a muted, unclear note. "I don't know why," I said. "I wonder if it's the bow." "Did you put plenty of rosin on?" "Yes, before I came out." "It's not the bow," she said, decisively. "It's your cello. It just changed its tone with the weather. They all do that." "They all do?" "Yes," she said. "It can be a terrible nuisance for a soloist."

I was watching the U.S. tennis semi finals. In a break with tradition the organizers had put on both semis at the same time because the rump of a hurricane was due to pass over New York and bring with it rain and wind. "It's very heavy weather," a commentator said. "Really overcast." "Rafa's not playing up to his usual standard," his co host said. "I'm not feeling up to par," complained one of the people watching the tennis with me. "Is it your head? You've been so well this week," her husband said. "It's the weather as usual," she said as Rafa missed a gimme.

It's nice to be right. In an earlier blog I wrote how the birds and squirrels in the ravine through which I regularly walk know what weather is coming at least one day ahead. Well, a research paper published recently, by a team from the Univesity Of Groningen in the Netherlands, highlights the behaviour of migrating godwits. No, I'd never heard of them either. However, these birds leave New Zealand, fly to China, take a turn through the Pacific (in mid ocean with no land in sight) and end up in Alaska. 12,000 km no less.

In the intro to our website there was a small mistake when it was originally put together. An "h" was added to 'heart disease' thereby creating a disease not much written about in medical textbooks...'heartH disease.' It is, however, one I've met on more than one occcasion, the first time being in 1972, in a small northern town in England.

I have been involved in some medical research in the past, v. distant past, but it was nothing like the effort that gave the MediClim Index its statistical footing. About eighteen months ago weather/health was on a back burner. Then Denis called me up and asked if I'd like to join a research team he was putting together to apply for one of the grants the Federal Govt of the day was offering to groups who wished to study climate change and associated environmental effects on people.... and to try and make some predictions that would help government decision making in the future...

What is research? I don't know about you, but the t.v. seems to think that research is a tech standing over a bunch of test tubes that contain coloured liquids. T.V. is riddled with stereotypes. I've been interviewed by every Canadian t.v. network over the years and, invariably, I have to be shown with a stethoscope and taking a patient's blood pressure. The lucky patient has to be on an examination couch and not in a chair.

In the course of our research Denis and I have come across findings that can only be put under this heading...so here are a couple of them.

In 1992 I was a speaker at an international conference about the weather and health (hosted by Environment Canada and Health Canada in Ottawa.) Denis Bourque was a principal organizer and, because we were buddies, he swung an invitation for me to speak. Actually, there were no other Canadian medics there apart from a couple of epidemiologists (and they're a very dry lot, by and large, who are always counting things.)

Einstein's cat would become depressed when it rained. The Great One (sorry Wayne ) would say to it, "I know what's wrong, dear fellow, but I don't know how to turn it off." And if he couldn't turn it off, we certainly can't. At least not yet. (We can only very occasionally turn it on). But we can do things to lessen its effects on us. For a start we can make sure we've got umbrellas, raincoats and Wellingtons ready. If we can predict it's going to rain then we can get these suddenly very valuable commodities out of the cupboard ahead of time. Proving that forewarned is forearmed.

Maggie, my link to the animal world, walked into a full length mirror the other night. Well, she what she really did was bump into it with a bemused look. Then, after standing nose to glass for a moment or two, she stumbled off to try and hide in the basement. NO, she was not hiding from me. I shout but don't whack. However, she was clearly confused. The reason became evident about an hour later when it started to rain heavily. Actually, heavily is an understatement. It rained cats and dogs.