There's been some rainy mornings, where dog turds dissolve on the footpath and the traffic lights cast red green puddles on the street. All the mums and dads put plastic covers over the prams, so their babies look like those cellophane-wrapped baskets you win in raffles. Perhaps some day you'll stop outside a supermarket and buy a ticket from a blue-haired lady, "So what's the prize?". First prize Avon hamper, second prize meat tray, third prize six-month old Baby Chloe.
I finally scanned my photos from last year's T in the Park and can't stop gawking at the abundance of blue sky. Go forth and behold the wonder of drunken frisky Scots, Flaming Lips and the vague grainy likeness of Michael Stipe!