Letter to Dear Ol' July

Dear July,

I have had no correspondence from May and was wondering if she had, in fact, passed on my message? As soon as the future seemed to be getting brighter and the moods and spirits of those around me lifted, it was taken away and spiralled into an abyss of grey darkness.

June brought us very little in the way of sunshine, perhaps she didn’t have the winning bid on eBay – it appears that Spain may have won those stolen moments with the UV rays and warmth. It’s a shame really, I quite like the sun, it makes everybody cheerful and happy – well apart from one of those things made out of that frozen creamy stuff, they either melt or get eaten. I’m not really sure that I would want to be one of those little ice creams; life would seem a little more unpredictable than that of a human.

Yes my dear July, I am being rather sarcastic. I hope you understand the frustrations the inhabitants of Britain have. We have had very little summer so far, and weather forecasts are more depressing as the weeks go on. I am usually one with a sunny disposition, but I think that must have been previously sold on eBay to cover the costs of postage and packaging for the rain. I mean seriously, the cost of making clouds can’t be cheap.

In fact, it has been raining so much that I have considered taking my fish for a walk – unfortunately, I could not find a lead small enough to fit around it’s head.

Begging at this point July is not beneath me – please deliver us some sunshine, for I fear I may emigrate and join the Expats. Please bring the sun home. Thanks.

Yours faithfully,

Weez

Karma - a bit like Marmite

"Karma moves in two directions. If we act virtuously, the seed we plant will result in happiness. If we act non-virtuously, suffering results."

Sakyong Mipham

I often find myself among the masses of morning commuters in London, completely agitated by those who don't know where they are going, those who walk slower than I do, those who weave unnecessarily blocking the only clear pathway through the crowd of tens and counting. I also often find myself sniggering when something goes kaput on the Victoria Line and you hear a communal hum of sighs from 80% of the people in the carriage. 

Today was no different. 

Today I giggled quietly to myself in the corner when the driver gave the announcement that would undoubtedly annoy hundreds ... "I must apologise ladies and gentlemen but the train appears to have over-shot the platform and now I can't open the doors". There are two things that made me laugh about this statement - firstly, no the train did not over shoot the platform, the driver was going to fast and could not stop the train in time. Secondly, there were a lot of unhappy moans and groans the minute people were told that the doors would not open at King's Cross. It's strange that everyone understands the unspoken meaning behind the words of the driver - all it takes is for people to read between the lines. What he really meant was, "in order for customers to leave the train, we would have to go forward to Euston".

Well, that situation was fine for me. Yes, it may have meant that I quickly needed to develop sharp elbows to stop myself from being pushed around by far more than the average traffic of bodies that pass through Euston at 8.30am (especially those much taller than me), but I knew that when I got to Euston I would be on the home straight and regardless of the minor inconvenience on my way to work I would manage to get to my course on time (the ultimate goal of today). 

How wrong was I? 

After being stuck underground on a sweltering hot and stationary train for 10 minutes at King's Cross, the driver gave another announcement. "Hello again ladies and gentlemen, unfortunately this train has now become defective and we will attempt to get one door in each carriage open. You will have to change here and find an alternative route" - well I guess that was Karma. For laughing at the small misfortunes of others, I too had to find an alternative route. 

My alternative probably only added on an extra five minutes to my journey, not bad going really. Hop on the Northern Line at King's Cross to High Barnet and make an extra change at Euston to head towards Edgware - at least I avoided what had become a severe delay on the Victoria Line for the sake of one stop. 

Moral of the story - no matter how insignificant, don't laugh at the misfortune of others. 

FYI - I made it on time (with 15 minutes to spare) for my course. 

Over and out. Weez