🎶 Here comes summer … or does it?


Is the weather schizophrenic? Winter this year has behaved like the house guest who outstays his or her welcome. I have to admit that summer 2021 was hot enough to poach an egg in my underpants, therefore I was relieved for the respite of a winter chill. However, it’s now the beginning of May , yet Nanook of the North would have pulled on extra clothing over Easter here in Malta. Grey skies, a wind that could yank the eyebrows off your face and rain horizontal enough to win a limbo dance competition. Today the sun is shining but according to the forecast, it’s a deception worthy of David Copperfield (the magician, not the Dickens character). In a few days time, the temperature is set to drop low enough to make my pubic hair crackle; so the Ambre Solaire will go back in the cupboard and out will come my hot water bottle.

...and another thing

Please note that I haven’t mentioned spring or autumn, as for the six years I have been in Malta, they only last about two weeks. It’s as if God has got bored with his previous handy work of Genesis Chapter One and ditched these two seasons. Last year I went into hospital in April wearing engineer boots, leather jacket, and tight blue jeans, to emerge three weeks later into the blast furnace that is summer. I swear by October each year I have shrunk an inch from melting for six months.

...and another thing

So is this mix the effect of Global warming or the fact that Mother Nature is an unpredictable lass, as liable to whimsy as all of us?

I picture her digging into a box of chocolates and watching us all put away our winter woolies and even quietly binning the ghastly winter jersey my Aunt gave me, when bang!… it’s freezing and all we have out to keep me warm is a tracksuit I never wear but have out just in case I ever decide to go to the gym.

Certainly the hood on my convertible has been up and down as many times as a sailors underpants when in port after months at sea.

I reckon the person who is most confused is my wine merchant. One minute it’s orders for bottles of Pimms, Aperol, Rosé and Prosecco, the next Port and heavy Barolos.

Actually, my dogs are pretty confused as well. When eating inside there is less chance of things dropping on the floor as my wife and I eat in the kitchen. Outside there is a cornucopia of dropped food from barbecues, snacks by the pool or piles of Salad Nicoise that drop tuna chunks all over the patio floor.

In fact they are the only things in our house that I know of who put on weight in the summer months.


Take care. And … 🎵 it’s raining again, oh no it’s raining again🎶

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