A Fresh New Day

Okay, enough catching-up for one morning. (May be some more tonight.) After a number of long, exhausting days and broken nights’ sleep, I slept soundly last night and feel good this morning.

While I’ve been writing there has been the most impressive thunderstorm going on outside; positively torrential rain lashing down. Now, within half an hour of it starting, it’s passed again and the sky is clearing. At least the air is cool now. It's like the Indian Monsoon Season! The climate is changing: I don’t remember weather like this when I was younger; one half of the country baking in a fatal heatwave, while the other half drowns in flash-floods!

Apparently we are expecting more rain today – although looking at the BBC’s forecast, it’s predicting clear skies (i.e. sunshine) all day until late tonight! Huh?

The tennis is definitely picking up the pace in Wimbledon now; the streets are crowded with people and they have erected crowd-control barriers along the high-street. Last night as we were coming home the pavements were packed with late night partiers – despite the last British contender being knocked out of the Championships.

Speaking of getting knocked out of competitions, now that England’s national football team are home again, one has to wonder what will happen to all those St. George’s Crosses. The BBC has some helpful hints.

While it would have been nice to have won the competition, I can’t help but be secretly glad that we didn’t. Football-mania would have expanded out of all proportion if we’d taken the World Cup home. I can just imagine all the sycophantic hero-worship and puff-pieces about a return to the ‘glory days’ that would have followed. In fact I think winning it only once in forty years, wouldn’t exactly be a record of which to be proud. When we’ve won at least a couple of successive World Cups, then you can tell me we have a world-class team to admire.