Saturday, 26 May 2012
Senses and sensitivity
Lovely, some people think. Too hot too soon, other people think.
Let's get the "barbie" out, quite a lot seem to think.
Hold your nose time again. I think
What is it about the first few sunny days which causes half the human race to lose its mind.
Why is it a good idea to sit, sweating profusely in a group of equally sweaty, pale-skinned (from living under a stone all Winter), people of all ages types, sizes, shapes and tastes, in order to celebrate the return of the sun to our cold and drafty island?
Having been talked into communal eating al fresco, regardless of dietary peculiarities, and the obvious penchant of the local insect population for greasy smelly food, it is deemed odd, or fussy to say in a small, uncertain, wavering voice "Er, I'm a vegetarian".
Reactions can vary from "Ooh what do you eat then"? to "well, you won't mind eating (burgers, sausages, etc) just this once will you?" or even sometimes "We know that don't we, so we've got you some (invariably salmon) fish.
If I dare to say, which has been known, "I'll have a jacket potato with some cheese" they look pityingly from their sweating, glistening with fat, faces, "you don't know what you're missing". they say.
Neighbouring barbeques compete, with the smell of chilli predominating. Smoke rises from a dozen gardens. Pongs fit to make your eyes water fill the hot humid air and everyone is suddenly silent as they/we stuff our faces as though food were going out of fashion,
The gardens which, in the early morning were full of the scent of lilac and soft Spring fragrances are reminiscent of some North African street market, Even the birds have departed, overcome by fumes.
Luckily, this type of weather is comparatively rare in our hallowed land and the public feasting phenomena
equally rare, so as I remove the clothes-peg from my olfactory organ and escape to the comparative cool of a silent empty house with all its windows open, grab a huge glass of water and heave my hot feet onto a footrest I muse in blessed odour-free, silence on the strangeness of the 'reserved' British at play.
Posted by Ray Barnes at 4:06:00 pm