May

This is going to be the first of a few blogs tonight. I have a tendency to do this, don't I?

Anyway, May is my favourite month of the year. I'm so sad it's almost over, already (I don't even remember it starting, how bad is that?).

It's my favourite month for a few reasons - and my birthday's in February, before you say that's the reason - it's the month where we have the most flowers. The other day we were driving down a road lined with trees and all the blossom fell off and swirled in a cloud like a light snowfall and all I wanted was to be out in the blossom. It was last year, after I was recovering from all the illness, that I started to really appreciate all the flowers around. The daisies and dandelions (and dandelion clocks) and when I was in London end of April the pansies and foxgloves were all coming out. I like a colourful world (it's better than high summer, where the green starts to yellow out from over-exposure to sun).

The weather's always good too. In a way it's a pain in the bum with my work, because it's even hotter than normal. But we do get extra drinks whenever there's a slow period, so it's not completely heinous. But yes, it's starting to warm, you can appreciate the late Spring breeze without having to cover up because the wind's too cold. You have to work hard to get burnt. Everyone starts coming out of their houses, hanging out in parks ... which I did with Claire and boy on Monday. He even got an official England football for the occasion (then spent most of his time playing with his rainmaker and going on the slide. Always appreciative!)

I also quite like the two bank holidays we get in England. Technically it has no reverence to me, since I don't work Mondays and my boy's off nursery Monday ... but it's a feel good day, isn't it?

So yeah ... I'm sad it's over. Even sadder that I've spent most of it melancholic. If that's how I spend my favourite time of the year, it doesn't say much for the rest of the year, does it?