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16/06/2016 / hbrowne4

April is the cruellest month – T.S. Elliott by Mairead McGrath

How on earth did T.S. Elliott decide this?  I think April is the most human month because it teases us.  We have taken a giant leap forward with our clocks which provide us with a “stretch” in the evenings. We then fool ourselves that the invisible door of Summer is ajar.  The Sun joins in the teasing by releasing his energy into a light breeze.  This blows away the clouds and immediately we cry:

“Hurray! Summer has come.”

We dash to the wardrobe disturbing the moths curled around mothballs which are meant to kill them, not provide cushions for them to sleep on.  Rummaging to find last year’s tee shirts and shorts we discover we can’t fit into them.

“They’re too small” we cry out in anguish.  This of course is a lie.  We conveniently forget the Christmas Pudding and Easter Eggs which slid sweetly down our necks on to our hips.  Winter treats are what made us unable to slip into Summer style.

There’s no time to diet.  We dash into Marks & Sparks to grab a bigger size.  They only have them in purple with orange elephants.

“They’ll do” we shout thrusting a fistful of notes into the hands of the cashier.  Leaping into our car with a seductive vision of sunbathing in the back garden floating before our eyes we roar the engine into life quite prepared to break the speed limits.  Suddenly we hit a two-mile queue of cars held up by Road Works which have appeared since we left home two hours ago.  Seething with impatience our gaze rests on the ripening sun-kissed muscular bodies of the workmen displaying to perfection what we are missing as we sit sweltering with all the windows of the car open.  Enthusiasm oozes out of our bodies in sweat.  We fantasize licking a gigantic Teddy’s Ice Cream.

Eventually we arrive home.  We put out the deckchair; change into our new tee shirt and shorts; mix the good ole G & T; search for our glasses; find our book.  Ready to go.  But what’s that? Bloody Lightning.  Thunder follows rapidly.  Then the heavens open.

I have to admit Mr. Elliott did get it right.  April is the cruellest month.  It also has a warped sense of humour.

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