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The Summer of 2018.
I was 5 years old the last time we had a season called, ‘Summer’. I think the year was 1976.
Apparently, as everyone moaned about it being too hot, summer decided not to return and instead went to other places like Greece and Spain. The cunning Greeks and Spanish embraced summer and built a holiday industry around her and her magical charms.
This allows us Brits to jump on a plane and occasionally go see her, moan that she is indeed too hot, burn ourselves, then travel home again.
But, as you have no doubt noticed, after a 42 year absence, she has returned.
This return causes a slight issue for anyone over the age of 40.
For many years now, just when you think summer should be here, summer fails to arrive, so to fill the gap we share tales with our children about how we used to always have glorious summers!
Six weeks at least of sunshine, freshly mowed lawns, street parties where you attended without locking your street door because in our proper summer days no one could be bothered to be a burglar.
Skinny dipping to cool down in the town centre fountain with all of you chums and the slightly older chap whose name you never learnt and who everyone assumed was a friend of someone else until one day he never skinny dipped anymore, instead, he was in prison.
We would talk about how our winters would be proper winters with 6ft of snow, temperatures below freezing for weeks on end. Dead pensioners stacked as high as your shoulder on every street corner, coal shortages, power cuts and everyone had a winter cold.
And everyone had a line of snot that had dribbled from their nose, down their chin and then froze solid, only to defrost with the arrival of Spring.
Proper Spring mind you, none of this modern day confused am I? aren’t I? Spring rubbish.
Indeed, the over 40’s are the lucky ones because we got to experience year after year of, ‘proper seasons’.
And as we share our stories of season happiness, have you noticed that there is always a subtle tinge of blame built in, as if, in some way, the younger generation has been responsible for messing it all up?
And now the slight issue.
Every news channel is broadcasting, “First Proper Summer Since 1976”. Every headline in the press is stating ‘First Proper Summer Since 1976’ and the kids have just realised that all of our stories, we, errrrr, unfortunately, made up.
To make matters worse, we pretended we like summers.
And it is clear that we simply don’t like summer because….
And these are all genuine comments uttered in my reception area this week…..
- There is no air
- It’s not natural
- We are not built for this
- We are not prepared
- Why can’t we have a happy medium?
- Have you noticed everyone smells?
- I smell
- Too many insects
- I cant sleep
- My husband cant sleep
- My kids cant sleep
- My garden is dead
- I don’t want to eat
- My neighbours are in garden all the time making noise
And so on and so on…..
So to sum up.
Summer will soon realise that we hate her and not return for another 42 years.
We can all continue going to Greece or Spain to confirm at any time we wish, that yes, we do indeed hate summer.
And this time next year, when it is foggy and wet, we can dust off our happy stories of how great the ‘proper seasons’ used to be, but this time, the only difference will be, the kids will not be listening……
Enjoy the sun all !