One of the things I love about the information revolution is the availability of weather updates. It's also one of the things I hate. In years past all you could do was scan the horizon, stick a licked finger in the air to check wind direction and make the best guess you could. A longer-term outlook could be gleaned from discerning the patterns in the way the cows sat, the behavior of birds and watching the ants to see if they were building little protective earthen dykes around their nest entrances (I still use this one actually). Some mysterious link to pressure and humidity prompts the workers to hurriedly pile up a circular wall of grit several inches in circumference and one to two inches high around each entrance hole. I assume they then retreat to the deepest part of the nest and wait out the rain. I wonder if they have parties down there. Like New Orleans revelers used to do before hurricanes stopped being so much fun.

Now we have the internet and seemingly endless choices in how we want our weather served up. It's worse than one of those American breakfasts. Would you like your rainfall from vertical velocity or synoptic chart? Daytime maximum temperature neat or combined with humidity and wind for an indication of thermal comfort? Short-term, seven-day or long-term outlook? It's all very confusing sometimes.

The best (or worst) of the services is the rainfall radar. A few clicks and you have a regional map. Rain is detected by radar and shows up as coloured splotches. Light rain is a peaceful, calming blue which goes to an increasingly alarming yellow and then an angry scarlet as the rain gets heavier. Essentially, the prettier the splotch on the radar the worse things are going to be. A new image is added every ten minutes, and the last four frames are shown in quick succession, like a mini-movie. You can watch, transfixed like a rabbit in the headlights of a truck, as storms roll your way. And just like the rabbit - there is no getting out of the way. ‘Such is life' as Ned Kelly supposedly said, and if I am to be squashed by a truck, or have the grapes turned squishy by a storm, then so be it. I'd just not rather have to watch the bloody thing coming from halfway across the state.