The news just keeps getting worse, doesn’t it? On the last day of the Meteorological summer, I hear that Boris Johnson has travelled to the west country to personally kill Geronimo the alpaca. I admit I wasn’t listening too closely to the radio it was announced, but really: could Al ‘You can call me Boris’ Johnson sink any lower?
I don’t know what shocked me more. Alpaca hater Johnson personally pulling the trigger to shoot a bullet directly into this poor animal’s brain or the fact that we are supposed to believe this is actually the last day of summer. Take your pick.
I’ve just returned from a shopping trip to our local Sainsburys and it really doesn’t feel a lot like summer. I foolishly wore my shorts, along with a thick fleece on top, and whilst I wasn’t exactly shivering, I felt a bit of a prat, especially since everyone else in the shop wore attire that would have been more appropriate to Nanook of the North.
Yes, it was only a few days ago when our local rag, the Bristol Post announced that we were about to enjoy a period of weather normally associated with Death Valley. I should have known better, given the Post’s history of misleading headlines about heatwaves which never seen to come true. It’s almost as if they are relying on clickbait.
Tomorrow, it’s autumn, unless I change to the Astronomical method of determining seasons. That would at least give me three more weeks of pretend summer. Now we have to suffer the usual six months of darkness, cold and rain. At least poor old Geronimo has escaped that misery, I suppose.