The joys of summer

I am full of the joys of English summer today. Sunlight filtering through the leaves in the park, kulfi bought at the local grocer, the smell of cremated chicken wafting gently on the breeze. I love that English people go so mad when the weather is good. That a sunny day is a valid reason for skiving off work, that the shops instantly sell out of disposable bbqs, that the streets fill up with people with a variety of odd patterns stenciled on their bodies in white and red. That we just can't handle it basically, we get over excited and drink too much and collectively lose the plot.

In countries where they have summer every year nice days are rubbish (unless you're English and on holiday in them of course.) The folk don't know how to enjoy themselves. They treat it like any other day (which it is). They even go to work for gods sake. Such days are wasted on them. *smugly licks ice cream*