It's finally turning cold, with a heavy sleet shower today, however this November has been weirdly warm. The other day I was standing outside without a coat enjoying the sunshine. Roses are trying to bloom, and farmers report late harvests of berries. By now insects should be dead or hibernating but a repulsive blow fly keeps buzzing round my sitting room, settling on anything edible. I look up and see it crawling on the rim of my wine glass or a piece of chocolate. I've gone after it with a copy of Private Eye and it always escapes.
The conversations I've been having with taxi drivers are about the unseasonable mildness contrasting to the thick snow this time last year.
From my one and only visit to Australia almost 30 years ago I brought back a remarkably efficient plastic fly-swat. Deadlier than Lord Gnome's organ by far: death from above, in fact. I also brought back a hat with corks dangling from the brim but I think that was sold as an ironic gesture.
Posted by: Allan | 26 November 2011 at 07:03 PM