August

I can't pretend to be a poet. And I wouldn't seek to even convince you that I had even heard of 'R. Combe Miller'. However, having spent the last week in my allotment shed sheltering from the grey rains, when I read these lines from Mr/Mrs/Ms Miller...

"Fairest of the months!
Ripe summer's queen
The hey-day of the year
With robes that gleam with sunny sheen
Sweet August doth appear"

... I have come to realise that poets know nothing.

Not about meteorology. Or rain. Or Britain in August, anyway.

No Tags in August, Thank You

Call me a curmudgeon, but I've decided I need a month free from Tags. There's a lot to commend the process of tagging, but the prospect of a summer (when it arrives) spent creating a litany of my favourite music tracks, things people don't know about me, my top five Wetherspoon pubs or anything remotely similar fills me with dread.

So, I've declared my adherence to Tag Free August. It's a new campaign, brought to you as a public service (at no charge).



Before then, of course, I've a few loose tags I need to pick up, courtesy of those fine Bloggers, Archie and Shinade. I hope to get around to these very shortly.