I want to share, I really do, but I am not ready, so I give you this, which is kind of sharing, only very very old.
1976 Which was sunny.
If you ask an english person old enough to remember 1976 they will tell you it was sunny.
In 1976 I was in love with the boy who delivered Wednesdays evening edition of the local paper, he was a Mod called Mark. Mark was dark and terribly good looking in a chiseled way just like his scooter - a boner (ha, a boner! for those of you not au fait with the Jam or two tone revival a boner is a scooter that has been stripped down to it’s basic form in the vain hope that it will go faster). I would climb uncerimoniously half way up the outer limits of our house to a ledge the width of a laptop computer and lounge seductively in my navy and lemon yellow nylon bikini (sic). I’d eagerly awaiting his arrival under the heat of the sun, turning this way and that, should my left leg go here, perhaps my ankle would be more attractive this way. I was 10 just about to go to secondary school and my mum’s house was at the top of a dead end hill, I could see him coming. I was also shy, so shy, as soon as I did see him 5 doors away I’d run inside. I’m sure he never had any idea of my existence. But I remember the prickly heat of th sun on my back, the smell of the melting asphalt on the ledge. A soaring intense feeling of freedom, unexplainable now. Youth I guess. Being in control, seeing the object of my desire approaching and being able to turn away to return to my childhood sanctum of books and pets and mummys calling one to dinner whilst the wolf of desire pattered down the drive outside and popped a paper through the letterbox.
For this little outburst I would like to thank ; http://theharridan.wordpress.com/ who is lovely and whom also put me onto ; http://52seductions.wordpress.com/2010/02/