Summertime

Summertime, and the living is easy.

We're all going on a Summer Holiday.

Summer Lovin', had me a blast.

Summer - immortalised in songs, movies, magazines and books as the season to end all seasons. A time of love, fun, parties.  A time when childhood fantasies come true.

What a load of codswallop.

Summer is a time when it's so hot that when you get into your car you get third degree burns on your backside and you end up steering with your knees, because your hands are likely to come out in blisters if you touch the wheel.  

Summer is a time when it is best to stay indoors, with the curtains drawn and the air-con blazing. Because if you do go outside, not only will you be  sunburnt within twenty minutes, you will be eaten alive by a swarm of mosquitos.

Summer is a time when girls should wear lovely floral dresses. But in fact, what happens is you have a lot of thighs on display that really shouldn't see the light of day (including mine). 

Summer is a time when people sweat. I, unfortunately am a sweater. Behind your knees sweat is bad, but not as bad as cleavage, crotch and but crack sweat.  My fair English skin also glows brighter than Rudolph's nose at the slight exertion. 

Summer is a time when the only thing on television is cricket and tennis.  Which despite your natural dislike of both games, you end up watching because it's too hot to do anything.

So, with much gratitude to my boss for granting my annual leave, I am fleeing the heat, escaping to colder climates if only for a month.  Jack Frost will be nipping at my nose while chestnuts roast on an open fire.  Bliss.