Blame it on the weatherman
Ironic though it may seem, who would believe that we could have yet another summer like the last. We really thought that this year would be different and our home would be completed after almost five years of renovation. If luck played a part, and I'm not superstitous, I reckon we've broken several mirrors, stood on hundreds of frogs, run over more than one black cat and walked under every ladder ever erected, such is the amount of misfortune we've gained over the last half decade.
To have scleroderma is enough bad luck for anyone but to succumb to a two year hospital stay, live in a tin can, sadly lose close members of the family and to live on a building site equivelent to a war zone we read about in the history books, is quite enough for any normal person, never mind one who's mere exsistance relies upon a tube attached to a feeding pump which resembles an astronaut's backpack without the silver suit.
Oh I hate to moan by the way but -- p l e a s e give me a break! Summer has become the rainy season as far as I can see. They tell us it's global warming but I think it missed us. Sure the ice caps are melting, they keep telling us that also, and although it's quite worrying and a very serious subject when we mention polar bears and the natural habitat of butterflies, I can't help but wonder if it's my fault for not recycling plastic bottles or building the home fire each morning for 12 months of the year.
The way my luck is going, I'll be personally responsible for climate change and the fall of the Roman empire!
My mind wanders off on a tangent again -- it's the rain and I blame it on the weatherman!