Here comes the sun.
I’m a big fan of the Today programme, never more so
than since it came under hostile fire from the Blair government and its
multifarious satellites, following the infamous Gilligan broadcast. So
when, this morning, the impossibly seductive whisper of Charlotte Green
revealed that today would be the coldest day of the year, I believed
her. Because we must believe everything that Charlotte tells us. There
is no alternative.
I kept glancing through the office windows this morning, watching for
the first signs of the approaching blizzard. But nothing happened.
Nothing except a constant blast of golden sunshine. Then lunchtime
came, and I drove home to change. Jacket not required, but I wore one
anyway, only because I had bought it this morning in Aldi’s annual
helping of cheap-but-decent running clobber. Along with a few pairs of
Coolmax socks, 2 pairs of lycra shorts, and a couple of shirts. All for
well under £40.
I’ve recently been getting used to running with an MP3 player or DAB
radio, but today I left them behind. I wanted to enjoy the sunshine,
and the novelty of warmth.
It’s been a long cold lonely winter.
Here comes the sun, indeed.
But where does this leave my relationship with Charlotte…? Without
trust Babe, we are nothing.
