You have to hear this wind to believe it

 There is indeed one drawback to Paradise,  and that is it's ability to send you mad with the wind.

Oh you may scoff and think "meh, this is nothing, when we were tramping in the West of Scotland where the North Sea is taking a shortcut to Ireland" ((a) possibly terrible geographic reference as I can imagine that it would be but am too lazy to verify it and so I am using the "if I say this with enough oomph they will believe it to be the truth" technique on you, who may well (b) be figments of that same imagination) (and (c) I now doubt whether those from the West of Scotland use the term "meh" so apologies for the poetic mugging) (also (d) I actually don't think that I know anyone that uses the term"tramping" with a straight face) (not that there is anything wrong with it, I just probably don't know you) but had you lived here through these last few days, perhaps you would nod and say "not just ability, finesse".

It was calm enough this morning for me to get out of the house on my walk. I always have a better day when that happens, and yet every morning is a battle fought between good and the thousand excuses as to why it might not be.

I went on Wednesday as well. Then we had a most romantic wedding anniversary. I took the day off work - Lush - and dropped Paris to school, went to the dentist, the plastic surgeon, the park with a packed lunch, the Dr, the butcher, picked Paris up from school, had a cuppa with V, had a lovely anniversary stroll along the avenues of the local Woolies - until it was rudely interrupted by the realisation that we had left the sofa stream cylinder at home and I got to enjoy the last few rows alone - and demanded that dinner be something that ticked the below items off:

• Not prepared by me,
• Not requiring clean up by me,
• Not requiring me to dress up in any way from "at home" attire,
• and
• Not requiring me to drive any great distance to procure.

Another of Paradise's imperfections is there are very few options that tick those boxes on a Wednesday (or most) nights.

Luckily the few that there are weren't so few that the plan was abandoned.

Paris had a kebab from the decent little kebab joint recently arrived - recommended - and we had take away from the Thai joint.

But the plans to walk yesterday were blown away.

It blew all day.

I work in an office and so only get to experience the wind on the way to and from the car to and from work and at lunchtime, and swirly winds and a heatwave in the middle of the day should I venture forth.

Today also worked up quite a head after the lull mentioned above (way up near the top).

At night, however, when safely within the walls of home, it is sneaking all around the house seeking every chance,

 rattling at the louvres and whistling a windows dance.

Then it threw in a little pitter-patter ping ping ping percussion of raindrops -  developing a roll and a flourish enough to make Paris and I exclaim.  

This is a tune not heard enough this year.

(I have taken so long to edit this post that it's doing it again - must have been my cries of "encore")

Apart from that, right now, it just blows.

Still: It beats fighting fires.