I was obviously thinking deep thoughts the other day as I weeded a hopelessly overgrown flower bed. How many things do we do in life which we just have to keep doing – ad nauseum in many cases. Washing our faces, eating meals, dusting and hoovering the house, filling the car with fuel, sending and receiving birthday cards, talking to folk about the weather? I could go on and on! Clearly there is a lot of money to be made if you can invent something to stop the necessity to keep repeating any of the above – inspiration doesn’t immediately come to me although I do try to avoid dusting and hoovering as much as possible.
But there is something reassuring about routine too. It makes the special things in life stand out. How many days have elapsed since a British player won the mens’ singles tennis title at Wimbledon? So today is a very special day and we wallow in the triumph of Andy Murray.
I’ve been in England for the weekend – quite far south too. It was extremely hot – far too hot for my liking. But the thing that quite often strikes me when I venture any distance south is the difficulty of being understood and understanding what people are saying. There are so many strong regional accents in Britain. At the risk of offending a reader I have to say that the one I really don’t like is the West Midlands / Birmingham one. Lucky then that I was in Lincoln and Northampton when the accents were much kinder on the ear.