As any Brit will tell you, our summer has been a total wash-out. Oh we’ve had a few nice days here and there, don’t get me wrong, but they’ve never fallen in the time frame that is desirable. Earlier this year, when my son was swotting like mad for his end of year final exams, it irked him to be cooped up with his laptop and masses of notes while outside the sun blazed away, its heat pressing up against the grime encrusted windows of his dowdy digs. Likewise my daughter was unimpressed to be shut up in a boiling classroom trying to get her head around some early GCSE exams when all she and her mates wanted to do was roll down socks, hitch up hemlines and toast pale limbs to the colour of honey.
Now that exams are out the way and the long summer vacation stretches ahead, it is just the Law of Sod that the sun has packed its bags and naffed off to warmer climes. Trying to do anything – mow the lawn, wash the car, walk the dog, go for a run – is fraught with dodging cloud bursts and thundery rumbles. Roads can become mini lakes in a matter of moments.
So in search of some sunshine, the suitcases are out and flights have been booked to Cyprus. I’ve heard temperatures are currently nudging 40 degrees. Good. Because earlier this week I actually put the heating on for a few hours. I’m looking forward to doing squat diddly other than reading, swimming, sunbathing and going for relaxing walks along a beautiful beach. It will also be a pleasure to wear pretty summer dresses that have, in the main, remained unworn this year.
So before I go off to do some packing, will leave you with this: What did the pig say whilst sitting on a boiling hot beach?