Yay, it’s summer… thank fook. Well, it is at the moment anyway – as I write this, outside the window of the BSH Editorial Hovel, the sun is shining, the sky is blue, and the birds are singing and, inside said Hovel, my lid is currently sitting on the draining board in the kitchen so laden down with wet kitchen roll in an effort to soak all the bugs off it that it looks like a soggy detached mummy’s head.
Actually, the fact that it’s splattered with the internals of frankly inconsiderate suicidal insects is, in some ways, a Good Thing… although probably not for said insects, of course. The last few summers haven’t been terribly deleterious (great sounding word that, innit? No idea whether I’ve used it in the…
