It's been a long hard winter up here in Lulu Land and let me tell you that the strain was getting the better of sterner Luli's than I on occassion!
To get this enormity into recognisable perspective here, we have had five months of unremittent, incessant rainfall, alleviated only yesterday and today with two glorious days of sunshine, o hallelujah!
I look back in my scribled, motled notes to find but three days of sun sightings since November, nowhere in the known universe has this before been recorded nor more rain been known anywhere than grey and dismal Argyll in Winter 2014.
Normally Spring kicks in early up here and you can thrash around in the frost or snow in february, colour vision evolves from the monchromatic, animation from hibernation, loves lustre lost is found.
But this year not so much, my hopes of climate change dashed to smithereens in the ugliest reversion to type known the millenia so far, there is no God, there is no Good, the hideous implications of perpetual Greyness on the soul lay stomped on the lobotomies of millions of Argyllshire persons this late forsaken equinoctal.
The Lot of the Luli is hard and embittered as a rule but consider if you will for a mo while the Gods are pissing on your head five straight months in a row, interminable c4 documentaries aka Christmas Storms from Hell-ingthorpe, January Storms from Hell-ingthwaite, Wet socks Hell-in-Somerset-level, that one nearly made me smurk. Your tribulations down south sometimes make me laugh which is just as well as nothing much up here has this most damp and dricht of seasons!
Hear me know, Beware the trauma of not getting out on the ebike on a regular dry basis at your peril and life on the northwest Atlantic littoral in winter in particular!
It's bin a long time waiting on the sun!
To get this enormity into recognisable perspective here, we have had five months of unremittent, incessant rainfall, alleviated only yesterday and today with two glorious days of sunshine, o hallelujah!
I look back in my scribled, motled notes to find but three days of sun sightings since November, nowhere in the known universe has this before been recorded nor more rain been known anywhere than grey and dismal Argyll in Winter 2014.
Normally Spring kicks in early up here and you can thrash around in the frost or snow in february, colour vision evolves from the monchromatic, animation from hibernation, loves lustre lost is found.
But this year not so much, my hopes of climate change dashed to smithereens in the ugliest reversion to type known the millenia so far, there is no God, there is no Good, the hideous implications of perpetual Greyness on the soul lay stomped on the lobotomies of millions of Argyllshire persons this late forsaken equinoctal.
The Lot of the Luli is hard and embittered as a rule but consider if you will for a mo while the Gods are pissing on your head five straight months in a row, interminable c4 documentaries aka Christmas Storms from Hell-ingthorpe, January Storms from Hell-ingthwaite, Wet socks Hell-in-Somerset-level, that one nearly made me smurk. Your tribulations down south sometimes make me laugh which is just as well as nothing much up here has this most damp and dricht of seasons!
Hear me know, Beware the trauma of not getting out on the ebike on a regular dry basis at your peril and life on the northwest Atlantic littoral in winter in particular!
It's bin a long time waiting on the sun!
