9 June 2013

We can't get used to this

4 day forecast, Ireland: the fine weather has gone to our heads. Every dish tastes like bar-b-q. Bags of charcoal are scarce. Sunscreen has replaced Deep Heat on the shopping list. Beachwear is de rigeur in villages from Dunmewrong to Ballyfanny. At Dublin Airport's departure lounge, grieving families weep, not at the bitter sendoff of a loved one, but for the package holiday they foolishly booked one dark morning in February. When, if ever, wil we get back to normal, to life beneath Tupperware skies, to the comfortable refrain complaining about the weather? We don't have the vocabulary for this kind of prolonged meteorological fineness. We don't know ourselves.

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