A Statistical Damp Squib

No, no, it's March that's supposed to go out like a lamb ... or is it the lion at the 'out' end?  Either way, June seems to have taken its leave rather in the order of the damp squib ... very damp in some places!  So far as my work is concerned, this week has been neither a great boom nor a really powdery phut.  I suppose the best way to sum it up is to say that, of the four weeks this month, I've done the greatest number of jobs this week, and the average length of them has been the shortest!  I was concerned whether I might be getting a distorted view, affected by the most recent, seeing the past through those famous rose-tinted specs, and so on. 

So I looked back at last summer.  Let me bore you with a few statistics.  I had two weeks' holiday last July, so in the period April to September I worked 24 weeks.  In those 24 weeks, I did 36 jobs of over 150 miles, out of which three were to Scotland, two to Ireland, ten to the far west of England or Wales, and the remaining 21 to the north of England.  I always reckon that it's better to go north both because of the distance itself and also because there are more 'other places' in that direction for more chances to combine work.  These results tend to bear out that logic. 

The Bridge on Wool, Wadebridge

I then examined the work I've done since the start of April, and compared that result to last summer, allowing for the fact that I'm comparing 13 weeks this year to 24 last summer.  I found only ten jobs over 150 miles (I would have expected 19); of these one was to Scotland (I would have expected two); five were to the north of England (I would have expected eleven); and the remaining four to the west country, with none to Wales.  While I would only have expected five in this category anyway, Poole, Bristol and Hereford this year fade in their attempts to challenge Cornwall and the west coast of Wales that I enjoyed in the sunshine of 2011.

Now, where is all this leading?  Am I suggesting that last summer was typical? Or that the recession is deepening?  I have neither the time nor the patience to analyse previous summers; and even if I did, there are as many extenuating circumstances as there are good jobs or good weeks to explain away why any particular period is better or worse than another.  The truth is simply that this year is not last year, and it won't be next year either.  It is what it is, for good or ill, and that's the end of it.  All my figures prove is that it's not just my imagination: last summer was better than this one has been so far ... on the basis that I've chosen to measure them and make the comparison.  No more, no less.

Life is all variety, and this particular life that I follow is one that demonstrates its variety more than some others.  All in all, I don't think I'd swap it.  After all, in what other trade could you see fine views like the one above (last year), sample the inside of a Victorian hospital corridor (as I did two Thursdays ago), and see what documentation tortoises need for international travel (I haven't told that one yet!) . . . all potentially within the same week!

Oh, and by the way, my old friend the Repeating Genie sent me up the A10 to King's Lynn last night, and I can update you on the pink teddy bear.  Someone did give him a lift ... somewhere.