'Summer is-a-going-out.......

.........Loudly sing boo-hoo!'

After a couple of days of bright weather, things have changed, and once again the sky is glowering, and there’s an edge to the wind that tells me to stay indoors!

If, from time to time you spend an odd moment or two scanning these pages, you will be aware that young Bing is adept at getting the old poop to go for a stroll when the aforementioned gent would prefer the warm confines of home and hearth!

To add to the gloom outside, it’s constantly drizzling. It’s the sort that can make you feel quite soaked in a matter of moments.

I’m told, much to my surprise, quite regularly, that I am not a patient man! However, it’s fair to say when it comes to spending time with the boy Bing, I do display a more measured tone, and, because he’s an enquiring hound, I make every effort to keep calm and reason with him.

Once again he’s by the lounge garden door, and looking wistfully at the damp scene outside and wondering why I’m not as keen to venture out and get thoroughly cold and wet!

I can be won round and often relent, but seriously, on this particular day, even he realises that it’s not going to happen. He’s already been out in the garden several times and for great lengths of time, returning positively dripping, and requiring a jolly good towelling down and a nap beside the radiator in the kitchen. (Apparently it’s still summer. The radiator is off, but he has designated this spot as his drying area!) Finally, once again he is a dry Bing, and therefore allowed back into the lounge.

‘Is the box awake guv?’

This is Bing-speak for, "is anything on the television?"

‘Sport or crime?’

Bing, as you may know, is a sporting sort of chap. It should also be noted that he’s also partial to a detective series of any type. These can be viewed or, napped through, providing the old poop stays awake in order to fill him in, should the plot get complicated and sleep comes to rest gently upon the lads brow. The problem comes when an advert has entered the lads mind, and he cant work out whether the man trundling down the stair lift, could have been the same person, who climbed a cliff in order to bump off the Mother Superior. She in turn, apparently found Fairy Liquid really did wash many more dishes than any other rival!

Fortunately, the lad seems to be happy with my plot updates, which frankly can turn your run of the mill ‘Murder She Wrote’ or ‘Midsummer Murder’ into extraordinary plots of Byzantine proportions!

The hooter is pressed once again against the glass door to the garden, and a sigh is heard.

‘Bing?’



‘Yes guv?’

‘You do realise that it is now absolutely chucking it down out there?’

Sigh.

‘It might brighten up in a while.’

‘You said that ages ago guv.’

‘Actually it wasn’t even 5 minutes ago Bing.’

Sigh.

‘Look, I’ll tell you what Bing, if it improves a bit we’ll make a dash for the forest and….’

‘Dash? You dash guv?’

‘Well I was speaking figuratively.’

‘Guv, you do not dash.’

‘Well I was meaning that we could go as fast as I could, and once in the forest we would only get muddy and rather damp.’

Sigh.

‘It’s not going to happen guv.’

‘Well….’

‘Besides, old Morse about to start.’

‘Really?’

‘Sometimes guv, I wonder why you bother buying the Radio Times.......’