It’s just like the summers of my childhood, downpour following downpour with precious few sunny days in between. Here’s how reflective it is; the fine drizzle this morning made me think of early mornings at certain Welsh beaches. The downpour around lunchtime acted as a recherché du temps perdu of Chalet Holidays when all there was to do was play Newmarket (Michagan in the US) for Matchsticks or get my Dad to hide us in the amusement arcade where I could shoot at electronic targets to my ferocious little hearts content.
I’m having a bit of a problem getting out of the mental habits I developed on patrol work. I look at a car, the first thing I’m looking for is the distinctive shape of a pay and display ticket. This is awful, I’m no longer a Parking Enforcer and I can’t get the wretched job out of my head! Argh! I need some therapy and quick!
Oh what the hell. It could be worse. I could still be in the job (Or in the new Tewkesbury Archipelago). Then again, this flooding is hardly a new phenomenon.
As for Internet access, thank goodness for the free library PC’s.