Saturday, 13 July 2013
It Aint Alf Ot Mum
Not a lover of hot weather, today is almost unbearable. Somewhere in the 30's I believe.
Having shopped very very early and got a taxi home, I have done virtually nothing since starting to vacuum upstairs this morning.
The cleaner is on the stairs where, if I don't fall over it and break my neck, it will remain until it is cool enough to continue.
The eczema is just beginning to respond to treatment (after six weeks) and the garden is burning to a crisp, (will water at about 9.00 pm), the dust in the house lies undisturbed by human activity, apart from being breathed in by accident.
All the windows are open (blinds down on the sunny side) and the pong from barbeques is beginning.
At present, I am not looking forward to tomorrow's Eucharist (robed and surpliced) with anything other than dread, despite the fact that our lately (2 years ago) departed curate is returning to preach on what is almost the last Sunday our dear rector will be still with us at St. M's.
Looking forward to seeing (and hearing) David, but already shrinking at the thought of the heat of the choir robes.
If a large puddle emerges from the choir stalls and runs out of the church under the door, I will have melted.!
Or possibly not.
Posted by Ray Barnes at 4:07:00 pm