Guess what we had in Ashbourne today: Rain! It was the first time in about three months that anything worthy of the term has fallen on this blighted land. We had three showers of heavy stuff, each lasting about five minutes, and people were running for cover under the awning outside Sainsbury's.
As I was waiting for my transport, a woman in her fifties walked past and looked at me with a surprised expression. 'I wasn't expecting anything likes this,' she said. My occasional capacity for hyperbolic repartee -- a common style of humour in Britain -- took the stage. I said 'At your age I'm surprised you know what it is.'
She was made up (a routine colloquialism among the working class British which simply means 'pleased' or 'made proud'.) I decided to nominate 19th August as: Being Nice to the Over Fifties Day. Once a year is quite enough, I think.
I've also had conversations with two attractive young women this week. I wonder whether that could be installed as a weekly event -- a kind of Sabbath for the young in heart.
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