Those Lazy Hazy Crazy Days Of Summer.
Oh how I love these hot sultry days when I can sit in my garden and listen to the sounds of summer. The chirruping of the burglar alarms and the merry trill of the mobile phone compete with the buzzing of the power drill amidst the chattering hedge trimmers. In the distance can be heard a steady drone that can only be that of a hover mower going about its business, keeping down the deafening sound of grass growing that can already barely be heard above the pealing chimes of the not so appealing ice cream van. Wafting gently over the slated roof tops it causes the little children to run as one in the direction of purse or wallet oblivious to any reverie that might exist, pleading for all that they are worth for a few quid to spend on a "ROCKET" or "99" bless `em.
How I long for the shorter, colder days of winter with those longer nights and shorter tempers with only the merry tinkling of tills rising ever steadily to a crescendo above the hushed tones of the whispering grass pedlars on the street corner as Christmas draws near.
How I long for the shorter, colder days of winter with those longer nights and shorter tempers with only the merry tinkling of tills rising ever steadily to a crescendo above the hushed tones of the whispering grass pedlars on the street corner as Christmas draws near.
Now where did I put those new batteries for my ghetto blaster?
A Very Merry Summer to you all.
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