Thursday 12 July 2012

Wummer.

Biking to Bristol on Friday. 

Hello, rest of the (Northern-Hemisphere) world. How are you? Oh, what's that, you're hot? You're sweltering? Sweaty? Steamy? How strange that all of you are -

oh! Oh right. That's because, in the rest of the world (northern hemisphere),

it is summer.

Summer!

England has lots of great things. Lots of great music festivals, where I get to go, every single weekend of these few months, to another bunch of tents and food and fun in a field of mud for my "job." And people! England has people. Really impressive people, good-of-heart and stiff-of-lip who come out in droves to "have a good time" at these festivals, in their wellies and brightly coloured rain coats, camping in sodden fields and resigning themselves grumpy-contentedly to sleeping in dripping tents.
Priddy Festival, last weekend.

England has good things like this. But it doesn't have summer. Let's be honest. We can't call this that. So, instead, I'm proposing a new term. For the season that would be (_should be_) summer but is, in actual fact, nothingbutrain and is, actually, prettymuchexactlythesameasthelastseason,andthenext. So: Wummer. Wet-summer. Would-be-summer. What-is-summer?

Wummer.

Not a summer,

but not a total bummer

Wummer.


Lushfest. Rainbow rainbow rain.