Finally, I can headline a post with the title of my favourite Jonathan Richman song (I recommend the wonderful version on the equally wonderful I, Jonathan). After what seems like months of biblical deluge, the summer's here at last - now to make the most of it before it disappears again.
I did my best at the weekend. Friday night, on the way home, I stopped off at Cossington Meadows to do a bit of birding. Not an awful lot about, except for a Little Egret and 16 Lapwings going over, but I did find a Slow Worm, the first I've ever seen. It was just basking in the middle of a sun-baked, sandy path, and was in no hurry to get away. It blinked at me a few times, and I was able to see its notched (rather than forked) tongue, before it slithered away into the long grass.
Saturday, at last, was the sort of day cricket was made for. We shamefully failed to rise to the occasion, crashing to an 86-run defeat, but at least we were back out there. At this rate, we should be hitting championship-winning form by mid-December.
On Sunday, I went with a friend to Twycross Zoo. As a kid, we used to go there a lot, but in recent years I've hardly been. Which is a shame, because Twycross was always among the most conservation-minded of zoos, with a heavy emphasis on saving endangered species, particularly primates. It was packed yesterday, but still easy enough to get around, and there's loads to see. The gorillas are probably my favourite, but nothing really disappoints.
Today, I'm tired. And aching. And slightly sunburned. But happy.