Balcony blogging (2007 edition)

North American readers may wish to avert their eyes at this point. (Don't say I didn't warn you.)

I'm presently sitting on my balcony in shorts and a long-sleeved T-shirt, having just cleared away the dishes from lunch (which I ate out here for the first time this year (though I'd already eaten lunch outdoors per se twice)). Burton is on my lap and a selection of telephones, a book, a cup of tea and a packet of Baiocchi are by my side on the famous braunes Rolltablett aka the summer office.

It is 26°C; the birds are singing, the sky is again/still spotlessly blue; there is a gentle breeze from the north, and the howling of emergency-services sirens from the south nearly drowns out the continuous beeping of car burglar alarms from the west. Ah well, can't have everything. There should be a law enacted to permit people living within earshot of a continuously beeping, ignored, car alarm to smash the car's windows after say fifteen minutes. It's perfectly obvious that the car is not being stolen, and also that the owner is not here to do anything about it; why should we have to put up with this egregious imposition? Bah.

It's absurd that the temperature should be this high so early in the season. The trees in the schoolyard to the east (in my line of vision) haven't yet leaved out; how can it already be 26°? Last year at this time, the last snow had just melted. Call it "global warming" and call me worried that the less thoughtful members of society look around them and say "if this is GW, then let's have more of it," not thinking that warmer might mean different, and that different might become highly unpleasant.

Nonetheless: Life is wonderful.


In other news Thursday's Dilbert is filed under "wishful thinking."