It aint half hot, Mum!

It's approaching the witching hour here in Cape Town ( that's midnight for the more prosaic of you ) ...hmmm, I think I need smilies on this blog, I'm sure half of what I intend to convey is lost in the detached appearance of the written word, but I don't think the world is ready for Talk-Ford Radio... just yet! Tonight would be perfect for one of those laid back, late night, phone in radio shows though.

We've had a very unusual few days in terms of the weather ( how very English...talking about the weather! ) . Yesterday, for instance, was 35 degrees C with a discomfort factor of 43, or something...not sure what that really means but it was pretty uncomfortable. The sky was grey and overcast and there was the feeling that a thunder storm was imminent. It's still like that, which is why I'm forced to cool off by drinking chilled champagne. Well, technically speaking it's sparkling wine because the French tend to get all sniffy if the stuff isn't actually made in Champagne. Still, it tastes just like champagne to me, and I have been known to be a bit of a fussy bugger when it comes to anything that passes my lips.

But I digress, the point is; we seem to be experiencing monsoon weather, although we could do with a bit more rain to be really authentic. I happen to enjoy monsoon weather, the way the rain utterly soaks you, you don't get cold at all, it's a bit like having a shower with your clothes on...only without the soap bubbles. And once it stops, or you get undercover, it only takes about 15 minutes to dry out. I just find this to be so amusing, and liberating. I reckon lots of up tight business types would do well having to operate under those conditions. You really can't take yourself too seriously when you look like a drowned rat.

I will confess ( very Catholic word, but appropriate in this context ) another, more philosophical, appreciation of rain. I was raised a Catholic ( but I'm recovered now;-) ) and although it may surprise many who know me, I was very "committed" to my faith. Like many boys, or young men, of my age I served as an alter-boy and prided myself ( sinful lad ) on my memorisation of the liturgy of the mass. If I am perfectly honest with you I must admit that very little of that ethos has any place in the person I am today. One phrase, however, will always spring, unbidden, from my subconscious whenever I see rain fall. It's the bit that describes Christ dying to wash away our sins. The phrase in my recollection ends; "washing away the sins of the world"

The sentiment I feel now is more akin to an almost animist conception. Perhaps even the Shinto idea of purification. The world, and our part in it, is never simple, nor would I wish it to be, but it does feel good once in a while to " wash away the grime", to take a deep breath of that clean, sweet air that follows a downpour and look around with refreshed eyes. Perhaps this is just the bubbles in my champaign talking...or maybe there is still an idealist lurking inside.

This wasn't meant to be a Sunday sermon,( it's far too short for a start! ) far from it. I had no idea what I was going to write when I started so there you have it, a bit of "train of conciousness" rambling. Now...where's that bubbly?

Namaste all, Ford