Keep Calm and Wait for Summer

I'm currently sat at my table in my studio in Student Castle, the building I live in.

It is a rather nice building. I dare say that it is the best I have lived in since I moved to Manchester four years ago.

The view's awesome if nothing else. The building still has the rather awful habit of turning off the boiler without telling anyone.

After typing that it suddenly dawned on me that four years is a rather long period of time to endure the truly ghastly weather conditions that Manchester has to offer. It is always raining and this in itself isn't a problem because I, afam love the rain. There's a certain je ne sais quoi about it that agrees with my muchness. But the rain in Manchester is hardly ever heavy enough for it to be enjoyable. I want to be beaten senseless by it not tapped lightly on the shoulder. I want to hear the rain pound against the aluminum roofing sheets. I want to be lulled to sleep by the consistency of the thunderous noise. I want it to pour for two hours and then I want the weather to change because a day of rain is too boring to be encouraged by words. Ah! I see. I'm homesick. The band, Toto knew what they were talking about when they sang,

"I bless the rains down in Africa"

7 times in their song Africa. 

At the moment I am extremely unwilling to set even a toe outside my room/apartment/flat/studio. As I love myself to bits, I am unlikely to ever subject myself to the horrendous temperatures outside. Now you're probably thinking, "BUT HOW WILL HE EAT?" Well, Mama Afam dropped by yesterday and presented one very happy, Afam with emergency rations. Feast your eyes.

What can I say? Mama Afam always comes through with that emergency jollof rice. She is superior.

 I have started to think that Spring like most of our ideas of love only exists in movies and documentaries, for spring is the season when ice melts and the trees regrow their leaves. None of this seems to have happened yet. In fact just this morning I observed that most trees were still as bare as a baby's bottom and it is still snowing.

 I suppose that this is the fault of the Game of Thrones television series. Season three premieres on the 31st of March. It seems to me that the motto/slogan of the Starks "winter is coming" may have convinced the universe that an encore of arctic temperatures was necessary.  It just occurred to me that this is a rather good motto/slogan to have for winter is always coming. Even when it is winter, winter is still only a year away. It is just like saying the sun will rise because the sun will come out tomorrow, and the morrow after that, and the one after that, and so on, and so on.

(Just in case you were thinking of asking, yes, I have seen Annie. I enjoyed it immensely.)

So we must huddle together in this great period of difficulty as the Empire Penguins do down in Antarctica. Even if it's only for a week, I have no doubt that Summer will appear. 

 

Happy Days,

Afam