Further proof.

Virtually every year since I was a knock-kneed nipper it seems to me that June and July have been great, warm, promissory of a splendid August to come. The moment we broke up for holidays it pissed it down solidly for six weeks, culminating in sleet on the August bank holiday weekend, only for us then to experience a glorious Indian Summer in September as we sat sweltering back in class.

The Universe is indifferent? I’m telling you mate, it’s having a larrrffff.....