Good Morning and welcome to the 294th day of the year . . . and, in the Wigwam at least, it is a wet and soggy one!
The cold and chill of last night has, as surprisingly predicted by those nice people at the Meteorological Office, been replaced by good old fashioned grayness and drizzling rain - much more like the slices of quattro stagione we are well used to being served in this neck of the woods and which I personally find the most debilitating . . . those of you used to reading my rants may already be aware of my wish - nay, demands - for a return to real seasons and seasoning; an end to the silliness and greed that has Christmas Cards for sale in August and Easter Eggs jostling on Boxing Day shelves; add to this a weather-system that deems it okay to have bland, dull cloud cover for 50 weeks a year with 2 weeks of brilliant Mediterranean heat and light in March and you have a society and a people living out of kilter - It must be stopped! Maybe if we resisted the urge to continue burning the 300 million year old products of the carboniferous period is such huge quantities and re-assessed our life-styles we could have a return to something approaching how it should be . . . A simplistic message I agree and one straight form the Ladybird Book of How Ian Ideally Wants to Live but one from the heart nonetheless . . .
Actually I must admit I found last Winter really wonderful to experience! After so long of gray mush it was exciting to have the piquancy of real weather on my palette ~ of course, lots of you will not agree with me on this, especially as you trudged or crawl-drove your way to work through ice-sheets and snow-banks on dark and dangerous Winter mornings . . . I actually spent most of the Winter driving back and forth to Wales to visit Dr T's old mum who was poorly and saw some brilliant exhibitions of how not to drive; I began my motoring life on motorbikes and spent a good number of knee-numbing Winters shivering in my layers learning all about road conditions and how they affect your driving . . . in cars you are so sheltered from reality, it is no wonder silly accidents take place . . .
Thinking of such things my conscience is pricked by the thought of my rather fine and sadly under-used Claud Butler languishing in my store room; at one point in the not-too-dim-and-distant I was up and riding every morning at 6am, a practice I must re-establish in order to maintain mens sana in corpore sano; a brisk hour pedalling should prepare me for even more green tea and marmalade than usual! There is some method in my madness, non?
So what does today hold in store for me? Well, given that it's a Thursday - the day on which I was born by the way - and that the store in question is Tesco, it is easy to conclude that it will be a meeting with the Duchess in order to do her weekly non-shop . . . and then down to some more reading and whatnot for the old Open U . . . if the weather does clear - and I haven't heard the latest prognostications from the Whether the Weathermen - I may pay a visit, along with the beautifully curly Saldog to our favourite boutique and see what the glamorous twinkle twins, those flighty fleurs du mal, have to offer to brighten up the day . . . and then a period of contemplation and preparation for my clients tomorrow . . . and there it is; another week flown by with little or no regard for my advancing years . . . talking of which I will insert at this dramatic juncture a brief but heartfelt greeting to my favourite mathematician who's birthday is today; have a lovely one D - don't let the vastness of the numbers get you down, consider 00101110 instead ! x
And so let us greet the day with joy in our heart and a simile as wide as the big blue ocean on our faces
'til next time
Be Seeing You !