Now I've lived in the North of England for most of my life so, frankly, I'm used to bad weather. In fact, that winter often lasts till well after Spring is supposed to have sprung doesn't worry me at all. I like autumn and winter more than spring or summer. However, as evenings begin to get lighter and the days warmer I begin to feel a familiar dread.
I hate wasps, and I dread the day I see the first wasps of the year. That day was yesterday. I was walking home from work, enjoying the balmy sunshine in South Manchester when all of a sudden a veritable swarm of the little yellow and black buggers ambushed me from inside a wheely bin some moron had filled with beer bottles then left open. As a long term sufferer of wasp-fear I have found ways to cope over the years and rarely run screaming like a baby anymore.
However, because this was the first appearance of the year from the little bastards, it took me completely by surprise and I found myself cowering down the pavement windmilling my arms like some sort of crazy person. Which of course made the rather dozy wasps think I had something worth investigating and they proceeded to abandon their wheely bin and follow me down the road.
Roll on winter....