Yes but No but Yes

"The bulk of the country will be wet", a TV weatherperson recently told us. Not so bad a sample of down-dumbing, perhaps, as last week's "Warm air coming from the south does not mean that the weather will be desperately sunny". "Lumps of cloud", which we hear quite a lot, I suspect may be the sort of jargon that Weatherfolk use in mutual conversation when they're off duty. They forget that the rest of us are not members of the gang.

Some seem so keen to jolly up their weather reports that they facetiously remind us that we shall need our umbrellas or our thermal underwear tomorrow, or should be able to put our overcoats back in the cupboard by the weekend. Often they give the impression that this quantity of superfluous pally verbal padding is actually causing them to talk extra fast in order to cram all their words into their five-minute slot. Perhaps they are paid by word count ?

They also have their own stock idioms. They copy one another until these little linguistic quirks add up to a special language. The latest idiom is "Yes, it will be windy, but that doesn't mean it will be cold. Yes, there will be frost in the south, but it doesn't mean that there won't be some sunshine". I am waiting for "No, there won't be a frost, but yes, the wind will make you wish you had put on a warm jacket, but no, you won't actually need a waterproof one, because yes, it will be fairly dry actually".

I think I prefer the presenters who just tell us, simply and clearly and not in too much hurry, what weather to expect, and why; and who talk to the camera (and thus to me) rather than to the maps and images behind them. I like to see their faces while they are talking, and not to have to sift all the gabble aurally to get at the message.

I won't say who my favourite forecaster is, but I have one. And she really is pretty good.

Yes but No but Yes