On the horizon

Let’s just abolish the naming of seasons. Summer? Associate it with sunshine? Stop it now, stand in the corner, and come out again next time you see a rainbow (now there is a two second happiness for you).

Judging by some private feedback I get I should rename my blog “Moaning Minnie”. I dispute this assessment of my temperament; and those of you who know me vaguely, or even better, please ride to my rescue before I slip on a stretch of wet grass and self assassinate.

Yes, it’s weather and your serotonin levels where it’s at. You try and live in Britain and keep in high spirits; I dare you. Even Felix apologized to me yesterday that he felt need to raise most boring subject on these isles: Weather.

What I want to know, and I’d love to hear from both my Caribbean and Californian contingents, how is one supposed to sustain the all important Vitamin D levels (activated by sufficient sunshine) to keep the old dopamine at levels preventing yourself from throwing yourself underneath the next passing train?

Just to make life even more pleasant, my inbox is devoid of messages of one or two people I am hoping to hear from (one of you knows who you are); yet the poet, trying to beat me at my own game, set his alarm clock back by yet another hour, and phones me at six this morning (soon I’ll be ticking 24hrs/24hrs). Unfortunately – for him – I was already at my desk trying to meet a deadline; and, whilst I will always make time for a friend, I can’t write what I am paid for whilst playing muse to another wordsmith. 

Yes, big sigh, here I am in my lovely house, in my lovely study, in my not so lovely mind, and - whilst deadline met, text dispatched – the constant drip drip drip of the rain pelting onto the patio roof is slowly getting on my nerves. 

U