By which I mean the 13th of course. So far today I've woken up too early, one of my colleagues has handed in his resignation and it's only lunch time. This whole week has been very distracted, probably to do with the work on the flat, so there are many things that I haven't yet done hanging around in child beggar kind of way. But at least the sun is out now and the predicted peculiar run of hot weather will really begin. Sadly I think I've missed the bluebell season down in Wiltshire where my friends have a stupendously gorgeous bluebell wood nearby, but the blossoming cherries on my otherwise dull road do make me smile in the mornings and the great sheafs of daffodils on every exposed bit of grass are cheering. The picture above was taken in Holland Park in mid-March - with the usual people in T-shirts having picnics and pointing at peacocks.
It is mad though - there won't be anything left for May. The next door neighbour's wisteria is in full bloom, which is surely wrong, if lovely. One day I shall have wisteria. Which is very much along the lines of one day I will publish a novel and live by the sea and be happy every after. Well, you gotta have a dream.
Found two great pieces on The Onion yesterday, this about the US having been an abused country as a child and this about the deliberation destruction of the Washington Monument. Does there come a point though where satire becomes a form of denial - if you engage in the satirical version of the world you have created, are you in fact distancing yourself from the realities you set out to satirise? Don't write on both sides of the paper at once.
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