SUMMER. I can take or leave it myself. The heat, the torrential rain, cricket on the radio (reminding me what it must feel like the rest of the year if you’re a non-football fan), getting sand in your sandwiches, forgetting to put sunscreen on, sunburn, insect bites, the significant birthday I have looming (I can’t be that old, can I?), that constant sense I’m not making the most of the season.
That’s the big thing, actually. The notion that there is a world at its hopefully most benign just ready to be taken advantage of and I’m not managing to do so. Because I’m still spending too many nights in watching repeats of Gogglebox on E4.
Every January I start conjuring up hazy plans as to how the coming summer is going to be different, how this time things are going to change.
Come mid-July I’m still stuck on the sofa thinking maybe I should have changed my T-shirt three days ago and still haven’t got past page three of War and Peace. (And, let’s face it, if I can't read it during these long summer evenings it’s never going to get read, is it?) Maybe this is the problem.
READ MORE: Will we ever let the 20th century go?
Summer comes with a weight of expectation in the UK. This is the time of year when we can actually get out and do stuff. But part of me isn’t really that bothered about going out and doing stuff. And certainly not when the temperature is nudging the high 20s.
Obviously this is my fault, not summer’s. I just don’t think I’m necessarily built for this time of year. Spring, I love. Those first green shoots of the year, the sense of potential in what’s ahead, the possibility of playing Weightlifting by The Trashcan Sinatras – surely the best spring anthem there is – on repeat.
But come June all that good feeling begins to leak away just in time for me to rack up another year on the planet in July.
Is that the issue? Summer just reminds me that I’m getting older by the number of candles on the cake. NB, it’s a metaphorical cake. There isn’t a cake big enough to hold all the candles required now.
There are things I like about summer, I suppose. Going to the movies, galleries and bookshops mostly. But that may be because of air conditioning, to be fair. And going to movies, galleries and bookshops are the things I like to do in spring, autumn and winter too so they’re not really seasonal activities come to think of it.
READ MORE: Morrissey and me
Now and then in these summer months I will make an effort despite myself. Last weekend I visited my sister in Liverpool. We went to see the Pet Shop Boys at the M&S Bank Arena right down on the docks (they were great, by the way), took a picnic to the beach at Formby (yes, sand and sandwiches were involved) and generally had a wonderfully pleasant time. (The drive home through the Lake District with the rain almost horizontal and the sky effectively skimming the roof of the car wasn’t much fun, mind. I stopped at Tebay anyway.) This is how it should be, I thought when I was back in Scotland. Getting up and going somewhere and meeting people. I really should do that more often.
And yet as it stands I have no plans to do it again. I’m already sinking back into my normal summer sloth where the days just tick by and by and the books go unread and the trips go unplanned and the sun is mostly hidden from and I think, for the millionth time, I really need to get myself a hobby but do nothing about finding one.
Still, autumn will come in due course. At which point I’ll probably start moaning about that too.
Why are you making commenting on The Herald only available to subscribers?
It should have been a safe space for informed debate, somewhere for readers to discuss issues around the biggest stories of the day, but all too often the below the line comments on most websites have become bogged down by off-topic discussions and abuse.
heraldscotland.com is tackling this problem by allowing only subscribers to comment.
We are doing this to improve the experience for our loyal readers and we believe it will reduce the ability of trolls and troublemakers, who occasionally find their way onto our site, to abuse our journalists and readers. We also hope it will help the comments section fulfil its promise as a part of Scotland's conversation with itself.
We are lucky at The Herald. We are read by an informed, educated readership who can add their knowledge and insights to our stories.
That is invaluable.
We are making the subscriber-only change to support our valued readers, who tell us they don't want the site cluttered up with irrelevant comments, untruths and abuse.
In the past, the journalist’s job was to collect and distribute information to the audience. Technology means that readers can shape a discussion. We look forward to hearing from you on heraldscotland.com
Comments & Moderation
Readers’ comments: You are personally liable for the content of any comments you upload to this website, so please act responsibly. We do not pre-moderate or monitor readers’ comments appearing on our websites, but we do post-moderate in response to complaints we receive or otherwise when a potential problem comes to our attention. You can make a complaint by using the ‘report this post’ link . We may then apply our discretion under the user terms to amend or delete comments.
Post moderation is undertaken full-time 9am-6pm on weekdays, and on a part-time basis outwith those hours.
Read the rules here