While you lot swan around in your short things, arms and legs finally getting the airing they deserve, quaffing pints of Magners, glasses of chilled wine or Champers, and perhaps as Keats said, ‘ …the blushful Hippocrene – With beaded bubbles winking at the brim’.  Or, I don’t know –  probably a Pimms or 2, sitting out in back yards, or Pub Gardens, you jammy gets … spare a thought for me, here, in Greece .. in the f-ing pouring rain.  Bouncing off the terrace a foot high.  I’ve had to bring my washing in ! It’s a chore.  Could you please stop it now.  Not that I begrudge a blistering Summer in the Green and Fertile land that is Blighty;  goddess forbid it’s long over due, but really … ??  Enough already.  Everything feels a bit damp.

The cat’s come in, the dog is cowering behind the sofa, no doubt the sodding spiders and assorted Greek killer insects will all be trooping in next, away from the plate sized drops of ‘Gods tears’ ?  I wonder what God that would be ?  Just checked it out online, and there isn’t a god of Rain – obviously .. this being Greece and all.  So – lets saaaay … Harpyiae .. the goddess of Whirl Winds – she can piss off too.

Have tons of fun in the sun, my Lovelies, jealous – yes !  But you deserve it.  ❤