August 27th – I bloody hate summer bank holiday. To me, perhaps wrongly, it represents the end of summer. Last break until Christmas, from now, the nights draw in in earnest, the weather closes in and the warm days and sunshine once again become hazy memories. Except this year, we didn’t have much summer, either, and I felt doubly cheated.

I had to skip over to Burntwood at teatime. Driving rain, and a biting headwind. Some times, people ask me why I do this: today, deprived of summer and battling the elements, I was asking the question of myself…

Author: BrownhillsBob

I told the truth - but told it bent. Wandering around bemused and ranty since 2007. View all posts by BrownhillsBob