And how do I know this, what concrete proof do I have in these days of blurred seasons and undifferentiable days , that da Summer est arrive?
Is it the long rainy days?
No.
Is it the occasionally milder temperature ?
No.
Have I seen a Swallow? Yes!
-but that is not the answer.
Is it because young wans are wearing flimsy clothing in the lashing rain?
No.
Is it because beligerent blind-drunk neighbours are now burning burgers and basting botulism on the back-lit, covered in shit, back-yard, Barbecue?
No.
Is it because the clapped-out Ice cream Van is driving up and down the road in a cloud of Diesel fumes playing match of the day theme tune 24/7 ?
No.
Is it because toddlers are out from the crack of dawn whoopin and a hollerin and murtherin each other,all equiped with lightsabers and, much more dangerously, vocal chords that make Tom Jones sound like a whispering Nun?
No.
( By the way if any of you ever happen to meet the Welsh warbler and he sallying forth with a murderous rendition of somebody else's half decent song ,would you please tell him in no uncertain terms, ' That is not singing, that is shouting! ' and really ,really, shout the 'shouting' bit right in to one of his pachedermical, leathery ,(and presumably) deaf ears.
No ,comrades, friends ,Ramones, journeymen/women,culchies, jackeens, fellow bloggers, humans, aliens,Liverpoolfans,No and thrice nay, tis all of these but none of these, for the single clarion note and harbinger of Summer is the buzz of the BLUEBOTTLE,that most annoying of all summertime apparitions. Worse than the wasp, all BUZZ,BUZZ, BUZZ, licking at ,and puking on ,your food , then blasting around the room and your head at ninety miles an hour annoying the living feck out of ye , goading ye into leaping up like Bruce Lee and a hundred Mutant Ninja Turtles with a rolled up newspaper to do battle with the blue-arsed little bastard for ten minutes till exhausted and breathless and then ????................ Silence. Pin-dropping audible silence. Till you finally relax and sit down again and then be da hokey ,the airborne chainsaw restarts himself revving like an overtuned italian moped. You leep to your feet once more, gnashing teeth and spillling bourbons, tea/whiskey/beer/Irish Times/Playboy, to the ground , in the 180- over-99-blood-pumping-desire to do battle unto death with the hyper wound winged marauder.Then, then, then , but then ,soft , my friends-we have him cornered on the window pane, the battle is over the coup de grace held in abeyance ,merciful in victory we open wide the window for the annoying little prick to fly out.Beneficent, magnanimous, noble.But the moronic little fucker crawls and buzzes incessantly against the hard glass pane ignoring his offered , easy ,obvious, escape route to freedom, so with a curse and a swipe you splat his ignorant little guts and blood against the sport pages of yestedays newspaper.Fuck him!
No.
Is it the occasionally milder temperature ?
No.
Have I seen a Swallow? Yes!
-but that is not the answer.
Is it because young wans are wearing flimsy clothing in the lashing rain?
No.
Is it because beligerent blind-drunk neighbours are now burning burgers and basting botulism on the back-lit, covered in shit, back-yard, Barbecue?
No.
Is it because the clapped-out Ice cream Van is driving up and down the road in a cloud of Diesel fumes playing match of the day theme tune 24/7 ?
No.
Is it because toddlers are out from the crack of dawn whoopin and a hollerin and murtherin each other,all equiped with lightsabers and, much more dangerously, vocal chords that make Tom Jones sound like a whispering Nun?
No.
( By the way if any of you ever happen to meet the Welsh warbler and he sallying forth with a murderous rendition of somebody else's half decent song ,would you please tell him in no uncertain terms, ' That is not singing, that is shouting! ' and really ,really, shout the 'shouting' bit right in to one of his pachedermical, leathery ,(and presumably) deaf ears.
No ,comrades, friends ,Ramones, journeymen/women,culchies, jackeens, fellow bloggers, humans, aliens,Liverpoolfans,No and thrice nay, tis all of these but none of these, for the single clarion note and harbinger of Summer is the buzz of the BLUEBOTTLE,that most annoying of all summertime apparitions. Worse than the wasp, all BUZZ,BUZZ, BUZZ, licking at ,and puking on ,your food , then blasting around the room and your head at ninety miles an hour annoying the living feck out of ye , goading ye into leaping up like Bruce Lee and a hundred Mutant Ninja Turtles with a rolled up newspaper to do battle with the blue-arsed little bastard for ten minutes till exhausted and breathless and then ????................ Silence. Pin-dropping audible silence. Till you finally relax and sit down again and then be da hokey ,the airborne chainsaw restarts himself revving like an overtuned italian moped. You leep to your feet once more, gnashing teeth and spillling bourbons, tea/whiskey/beer/Irish Times/Playboy, to the ground , in the 180- over-99-blood-pumping-desire to do battle unto death with the hyper wound winged marauder.Then, then, then , but then ,soft , my friends-we have him cornered on the window pane, the battle is over the coup de grace held in abeyance ,merciful in victory we open wide the window for the annoying little prick to fly out.Beneficent, magnanimous, noble.But the moronic little fucker crawls and buzzes incessantly against the hard glass pane ignoring his offered , easy ,obvious, escape route to freedom, so with a curse and a swipe you splat his ignorant little guts and blood against the sport pages of yestedays newspaper.Fuck him!
12 comments:
I totally agree with your recognition of summer, and you have put it so beautifully!
Thank you Heather, you are a star, shining bright like a milk bottle top (Anybody remember those?) catching the early morning rays of warm sunshine. :)
That is a much more sure of summer than all the other signs you mentioned. I also prefer wasps to flies, as I believe wasps are more susceptible to reason. We have a creature out here tho called the black-faced hornet, & you do not want to mess with him, nohow.
You got 'im! yay!
This was a delightful read. Thank you for it.
My grandfather would make us turn off all of the lights, except for one, in order to 'trick' the stray fly into a sense of security...then WACK! with his special flyswatter. I find the old metal ones are still the best. Why ruin a perfectly good sports section? ;-)
Today's wv: reatot: not to be mistaken for its kin, 'ratattot' which is the sound of children building birdhouses. Reatot is to atot again, that is, to view the summer playfully. For example, "TFE observes summer in a reatotful manner."
I love your accompanying photo, TFE. And yes, this is how we know it's summer in Ireland - too true!
Woah, John, wasps are one thing, but a black-faced hornet? No way man, I'm throwing in the towel(and the newspaper) right now.I'm as brave as a knight with bluebottles and other creatures that have little in their armoury but Ican tell just by the name of him that he's a huge fecker that will fight to the death - mine that is.
Hey Jeanne, Im delighto that you are compiling this new dictionary of word verifications.Perhaps you could compose a thesis for your third book based upon it? Good technique from your Granddad, fair play to him, I hope you are keeping up the family tradition. :)
Thanks B, I would rather have a B than a wasp or a bluebottle any day. Glad you liked the poteegraphh it's one of my favourites of recent times and one of the few that was salvaged from the Dellish massacre of the six thousand.
Wasps drive me crazy.
If you really want to risk killing flies :) a mesh swatter is de rigeur. Otherwise they can feel the movement of the air before the sports pages (or money section) strike(s) home.
Brilliant photo - one could take similar shots over here in Leyburn, up the road, which is full of similarly clad bikers all summer.
I'll have you know that I am a whiz with a flyswatter! Nary a bluebottle bastard shall escape my fleet of flap swatter. I am KILLER with it.
As for wasps--I call in the cavalry, or get the vacuum cleaner with a very, very long tube.
Your preamble made me laugh inside and out, TFE! (Oh, and we both used the word "Playboy" today, but then I remembered it was actually a "Playgirl".) You can see my latest poem for the reference.
Great stuff, as ever (yours, that is.)
Kat
Funny Dominic but now i think bout it a wasp is a bit of a rarity round these here parts and yet hen i was a kid i remember there were thousands of the pesky gougers.Thanks for the mesh swatter tip but truth be told I love the battle with the rolled up newspaper , seems it is just like Yoda am I. Must be some good roads in yur neck of the woods,had motorcycles when I was young and would love to get one again-midlife crisis no doubt.
Hey Kat now that's fightin talk ,bet them bluearsed flyin banditos- Killer Kat.I tried the vacuum cleaner technique for wasps but found it a bit heavy for swift swatting. Hey, coincidence that playboy/girl thing, where did that come from? And funny that ye put the wrong one!Glad the post made you laugh,thanks.
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