Do you remember a typical English summer? No, neither do I. These days we seem to follow the pattern of a few hot days followed by a storm, a few drab days, rain, sun, rain, drab, maybe some sun, and then the expectation of another storm. People are taking breaks and flowers have struggled into bloom. I write little poetry but while I step back for a few days and until I post again, I thought I’d leave you with a Haiku.
Each boy has one or two sensitive spots and if you can find out where they are located you have only to touch them and you can scorch him as with fire.— Mark Twain