I have now made the made the ultimate mistake of looking at the weather forecast for the holiday week. Unrelieved gloom with cloud and rain throughout. Only at the end of the holiday is there a little glimpse of warmer weather. Some irony is too hard to bear!
But I have made as much as I could out of today, greedily taking in as many of the rays as is humanly possible from the Third Floor and the garden. I have done my good deeds by getting the lunch and cleaning the car – who can ask for more!
It is hard to believe that the flawless evening skies are going to degenerate into rain sodden horror. But that is what the weather forecast threatens and I am in the right frame of mind to believe it!
More than ever I hate dogs – or at least their barking. Quite apart from the obnoxious curs next door, today was made notable by the monotonous, squeaky yapping of some rat-dog in the flats to our left. Dog owners, generally speaking, do not have the consideration of a dead slug. Dead slugs (or even live ones) after all do not leave mounds of shit on pavements and they are certainly not raucous in any way shape or form. Whereas the debased and etiolated dog derivatives that people in this area parade at the end of a string are an insult to canine kind and the mutants take every opportunity to bewail their disgusting in-bred state.
And that’s just the people!
At the moment it is dark. A Sunday evening. And it’s wonderful.
To understand why, you have to be a teacher. Sunday evenings are technically part of the weekend but for teachers the pleasure is poisoned by the thought of the morrow when the hapless educators have to return to their toil.
Consequently a Sunday without the misery of a teaching day following is a gained day and a delightful night!
Tomorrow, tasks and writing. This evening, praying that the weather forecast is wrong!