The Five essential signs that British Summer time has arrived in Stratford-upon-Avon.
1. 7.30 in the morning. The two families that appear to own 20 dogs apiece let them loose to shit in their garden rather than take them for a walk far, far away.
2. 8.30 Lawn-mowers begin er…mowing. The throaty growls of a petrol model to the annoying whine of electric (mowers and strimmers) rend the air (I think I’ve mentioned before that there’s one that sounds like it might have cut the lawns at NASA). For some strange reason the mowing goes on for over an hour. I say strange reason because no-one has a lawn around these parts bigger than a postage stamp.
3. 9.30 (ish) The insane child who runs up and down the street making the most accurate imitation of a police siren I have ever heard is in action as I write this. I do not complain as I suspect she has mental problems. If she hasn’t she has a great career in show-business to look forward to.
4. The idiot family who go on holiday around this time of year have, true to form once again left their telephone answer machine near an open window. It has received a message and has been beeping for over 24 hours. As the hours of darkness approach the sound appears to get louder requiring ear plugs to sleep. I want to burn their house down. No-one would notice (see below).
5. All day into early evening. The constant smell of barbecue smoke fills the air. I hate it.
British Summer time has arrived (albeit for a short time). It is here.
Now, perhaps is the time to contemplate leaving?
Personally, I want to kill everyone.
Vietnam must have been like this.
The British Seaside Resort. (book your holiday now)