This global warming malarkey has had quite a few consequences within Alfie towers and its sumptuous grounds.
1) My new best friend is the ceiling mounted fan in the lounge. I’d always thought this bit of furniture was a bit naff – something straight out of Lawrence of Arabia or ‘Death on the Nile’…… Since we got it, we’ve hardly ever had it on - until the hot spell kicked in, and now it is never off.
2) The verdant rolling acres of Alfie towers are long gone. Instead it’s scrubland as far as the eye can see. In order to right the natural temperate balance, the weathermen told us to expect torrential rainfall on Saturday morning. At 11:45am, it arrived – torrentially pouring with rain in a torrentially torrential manner. At 11:46am, the torrential rain stopped – like God had just imposed a torrential rain ban. By 11:50am, the torrential rain had torrentially evaporated back up to the fast disappearing clouds from whence it came.
3) Butterfly wars. The Cabbage White is Alfie’s public enemy number 1 at the moment - even more so than the little bitey things currently hatching out of our pond and making a bite-line for Alfie's shapely legs. The Cabbage White is obsessed with laying her cabbage white eggs on Alfie’s fantastic crop of salad Rocket. Alfie is wondering whether the Cabbage White should instead be called the Rocket Eating Bastard?
The Cabbage White has studiously chosen to ignore the special sacrificial crop of Cabbages Alfie has planted nearby during an especially Buddhist weekend last April. "Shoo" just doesn’t seem to work, nor did a gentle wave of my arms….. Maybe I’ll dig out my Slazenger tennis racquet and practise a few overhead smashes?…..
4) Baggy shirts and baggy shorts are the dress code at A.T. at the moment. It may look crap – but it’s comfy – so that’ll do. Fortunately, being the most coolest guy on the planet means I can get away with knobbly knees, odd socks and builder’s bum when I bend over. Other people are not so style lucky as me however. The other day, I actually saw the squarest man in the Universe. He was about 40 years old, walking down the high street wearing dead shiny black leather shoes, grey calf length socks, a tucked-in white shirt with stripey tie – and the tightest, shortest shorts seen since Kevin Keegan was in his England perm-wearing pomp… I don't want to sound like Trinny and Suzanne, but for God's sake, this guy even had a belt holding up his short-shorts and a tie pin holding down his stripey tie......
5) Sex. Errr, none.
Much, much too hot for rumpstering. The ceiling fan is currently my object of desire…