I feel like a politician constantly getting the blame for the people's tidal waves. do you know what it's like to have the pressure and expectation of always having to be happy; having to give you something special? something cliched? - it's becoming harder each day. yesterday i got sworn at, scowled at and abused. ‘apparently’ it was a bank holiday and people wanted pimms and shandy drinks in pub gardens, open windows and upbeat anthems. i can't give you predictably bright, i have my bad days like you and like them. sometimes i want to pick a fight and feel annoyed so i thunder and turn up my sonic surround sound really loud. lightning flash and a bit of a stormy rant. i call it Mr Summer's summer rain. but even when you see me in the street and think it's all my fault remember that this isn't what i promised you. remember that:
i didn't say that i would remain the same.
i never said i woudn't rain.
in fact, in a way, it's just a good time to smile and think actually it's all ok. put on some wellies and jump in the warm puddles of my little bad-weather tantrum display.

and yes, sometimes i bite with a sunburn remark that leaves white legs and lobster shoulders screaming for the shade. with ski red noses you suffer my mood sways. but don't forget that i often lay out fresh sunshine pillows in the morning to help you rise, grow red tomatoes and encourage you to sit in hammocks and on towels. give ice cubes their meaning on a sun-baked day. remind you to eat salads, smell flowers, surely that's worth the occasional showers? i whisper ‘we don't need that light on’ and tickle your tastebuds with strawberries and ice creams. every year i wait in a quiet corner and then when you least suspect it i jump from the cloudy rooms and shout

‘SURPRISE!!’

‘i'm here, i have arrived’
that gets you every time... i try to do a good job
but i'm getting old and i need a bit of support along the way. ‘thank you Mr Summer’ i'd like to hear you say and that you appreciate all the effort i make.

James