Saturday 30 May 2009

Scorcher

For two days now, we've had hot sunny weather here in the Grim North. We rejoice, we sit outside, we get burned arms and noses and patchy, stripy tans because we can't quite remember where we put the sun cream last year, and we have a collective moan about not being able to get into our summer clothes because we are too fat after a winter under woollies. We find our sandals and wear them for too long at a time, till we get raw rubbed spots on our tender pallid feet. We go to the coast, and find that there's a nasty wind there, and that sand whipped up into sunburned skin is deeply unpleasant. And we tell each other about the optimistic weather forecast, and how this will last till Wednesday!

And it might, but it probably won't, and these few hot sunny days might well prove to have been our summer, just like last year. Not that I'm a pessimist, you understand.

4 comments:

Gretel said...

T'is lovely in the Cotswolds!!! :0)
I well remember NE summers, everyone started stripping off and went lobster red on top. They have very nice summers in the West Country...and super beaches...

Susan said...

tee hee once again...
I love your writing.
Dry & funny ahhhhh - the best

Could you recommend "a" (or 2) tres humourous British book of fiction for me and others who read this wonderful blog... madam please. When you've come in from your sunning that is. xo S, Miss D avec les Chats

mountainear said...

God's own weather in God's Own Country too - all thoughts of the ice age which we experienced earlier in the week are now forgotten. How foolish the ashes in the bottom of the as yet un-cleared out stove look.

It won't last...it never does.

rachel said...

You're right, PG. The park is covered with large half-man, half lobster creatures, burning holes in the grass with disposable barbecues.

Susan, have just gone blank on humorous fiction except for (American) Bill Bryson's wonderful, perceptive, affectionate and outrageously funny book on Britain: Notes From a Small Island, and one other that I don't intend to mention yet(think blog swop). I will think on, though.

Mountainear, those ashes aren't foolish; they are a reminder that their time will come again, maybe even this week....

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