The Summer

Heat + Me = 1 very unhappy person...

I can't really stand the heat, nor the sun. I sweat too much and it frustrates the hell out of me that I leave the house and by the time I turn the corner at the bottom of the road it starts happening. Drip. Drip. I can feel it on the sides of my shirt. It's uncomfortable, claustrophobic and painful. And ruins the way to work...

My journey to work consists of 3 parts.

Act 1: the journey down my road amidst the remnants of a leafy suburb. Past or over the common (depending on mood/amount of people around). Along another ex-leafy street, to the train station.

Act 2: The Train journey. Mostly consisting of the reading of a poem from an anthology I am currently carrying. (This week it is Sylvia Plath: Selected Poems by Ted Hughes).

Then...

Act 3: The walk from Victoria Station, by Buckingham Palace, through St. James' Park. Hitting Trafalgar Sq. on the way.

All in all, a rather pleasant journey. But not in the current climate. I cant seem to grasp the deal with the weather. I feel far too grumpy in the sun. Even when wearing a straw hat, wearing linnen and eating fresh -over ripe- peaches... Which should make me happy.

I am well and truly a cold weather animal. I like the cosiness of wrapping ones self in a wool blanket. Wearing mittens. Drinking tea with a slice of hot, freshly baked cake. Returning home from the bitter outside, unsheathing from a mac, hat and long scarf. I belong up north... but 50 years ago it would seem.

I mean, I am from Yorkshire after all.

I'm not quite sure why, but... I just don't like all this heat...